A Disaster Too Many
by SimpliMe
Summary: Raph has been told time and time again by Leo and Master Splinter to be careful topside, that every trip could bring danger to their family. Regardless, Raph and Casey decide that they are going anyways. But when they don't heed the warning, they find that bad things really can happen. Enter Bishop 2012.
1. Chapter 1

_Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2012 is a product of Nickelodeon. This is a nonprofit, derivative work from the well produced and written cartoon series. The nature of this work is to provide entertainment and broaden possibilities unexplored in the original series without profit. This work will be used in aid to promote series and all intent for this story for the same purpose. Thank you Nickelodeon for providing a wonderful new rendition of an old-time favorite cartoon. _

_ Rated T_

A/N:Um...first story...I can only write chapter fics and have a million stories of various programs worked out in my head. But this one was the furthest along so I thought, all well, I'll just start posting the silly thing and see who I can entertain along the way. I don't have a beta, though one would be nice, so grammatical errors might exist. Just tell me and I'll do some more editing.

This story was inspired by the TMNT 2003 episode "Bad Day," but set in 2012. I tried to adapt to their unique quirks in this story...so an old, missed foe will have his own too. I'll try to keep everything in character while relating it to this new universe. I also could not listen to enough of Anathema's "Natural Disaster" without thinking about how this story is going to play out, so watch out if it gets a bit upsetting. I also have a mismatch of chapters of various lengths, so don't be surprised by extremely long to extremely short chapters. I haven't written the whole thing yet either, so updating will be randomized.

Suggestions and comments are helpful and motivating too. :)

**One Disaster too Many**

**Chapter 1**

The lair had been quiet at one point. That was as much as Mikey knew, still shrinking in front of the television, too fearful of moving now that a whole out war was raged between his two eldest siblings. He hadn't even bothered to interfere on this one. Too many days stuck down in the sewers, left everyone now-a-days in an unusually sour mood. It was as if the small flicker of freedom, called the surface world, had suddenly spun reality on it's heels, expanding the turtles' yearning for something greater, bigger, more real than living below the streets. This expansion of knowledge and vibrancy of an outside world had, as expected, hit Raph the hardest. The proof wasn't necessarily in the company, named Casey, nor in the abrupt mannerism. The proof was in the heated debates; more passionate, more dogmatic than ever before between the two eldest brothers.

Raph wanted his topside time and he wasn't to be under a curfew.

It had started as per usual. There was a bit of a disagreement of what Splinter did or did not permit them to do. Going topside was one of those things. Now Casey was suddenly involved and whereas Leo or Raph might have eventually backed down with a swing or two, their new human friend was unwittingly adding fuel to the fire. Now it was a full on battle.

The voices ranged so loud, Mikey had momentarily become paralyzed.

"What is happening out here?" came the voice of Master Splinter. Fury was clearly splayed across his face.

If there was one thing Master Splinter did not appreciate, it was being pulled from deep meditation. Everything else was generally tolerated with some sort of 'I am disappointed' lecture.

Mikey slipped a little further into his shell as Master Splinter's eyes spun towards each present family member. He didn't want to be spotted out amongst his arguing brothers and be thought of as a culprit. He was enough of a culprit as it was when it came to teasing them. He didn't need this new, brewing situation to be sewed on the back of his shell too.

Leo and Raph pulled apart so fast that it didn't even look like they were in the middle of a scuffle. If it weren't for Leo holding his arm and Raph touching a split lip, then all evidence would have been eroded there and then.

"Oh, uh..., Master Splinter," Casey budded in before anyone could say anything. His interruption wasn't exactly suave nor did it deter Master Splinter's attention. In fact, it only added to the frustration.

"Not now, Casey Jones," Master Splinter snapped a bit, his eyes focusing on his two eldest sons. The furrow of his brow was deeper now that blood had been spotted. "I need to have a long discussion with my sons. Leonardo, Raphael."

Both teens cringed as their names were called. Neither wanted to be amongst the unfortunate few that their father had a chat with. It usually meant discipline and discipline meant more time away from things that they wanted to be doing.

Nonetheless, both boys followed. They glared at each other, each holding the same accusation towards the other, blaming the other for the current disappointment of their father.

Mikey kept his cowardice from where he was as the group passed by. He waited until they were out of the room before giving a low whistle and grinning sheepishly. All tension fell from him as soon as the dojo door snapped shut. "Man, I think Master Splinter is gonna make them run until they can't get up tomorrow."

Casey groaned before making his way over to the couch and collapsing on it. "Well, so much for my sidekick. So tell me what's got into Leo? He goes topside too sometimes. Why can't he just let Raph and me go bash a few heads tonight."

Mikey shrugged. "Dude, no one tells me anything. If you want answers, ya gotta start hanging out with Master Splinter, because he's the one who knows everything."

A rather disgusted look crossed Casey's face. "Yeah, hanging out with a rat, by myself. I don't think so…I really don't think so."

"Or you could go ask April. She seems to know a lot about what's going on-"

"That isn't necessary," Donny called, his eyes narrowed a bit at Mikey's suggestion. His appearance in the doorway of the lab was so quick that both Casey and Mikey jumped a bit. "Master Splinter's been worried ever since we found out that there are more and more people that know about us. Shredder is back, Tiger Claw almost wiped us out, Kurtzman only proves that humans know about us, Karai is out for blood..."

"Tiger Claw?" Casey questioned with an eyebrow raised. "Leatherhead, Shredder, Kurtzman? How come I haven't met these guys? When did I miss them?"

Don folded his arms. His smile was a little too smug. "Well, you've missed out on a lot of our adventures we've shared since _we_ met April."

There was no hiding the fact that Don had emphasized his knowing April long before Casey stepping into the picture. Sighing loudly, Mikey interrupted what could be a potential brawl with a, "Seriously? Are we going to have round two in the lair?"

It was loud enough to draw both Mikey's brother's and Casey's attention in at once. The embers in their eyes didn't ignite however, which was a sign that Michelangelo's dramatic display actually worked. Mikey smirked as he flipped backwards and watched the two resume their talk. If Mikey knew anything about Don, it was that the guy never disappointed in long, lengthy explanations about anything.

"Master Splinter pretty much put the lair on lockdown until he thinks that the air is cleared. And Leo's sort of the one that has to enforce that."

Casey grunted. "So…? You've guys been out of the lair since then, right?"

"Yeah…," Don trailed off, his face held guilt across it. "Well, Master Splinter might not know exactly about those times. He's…well…he sort of thinks that Leo's been keeping us training in the tunnels or giving April a hand here or there."

That caught Casey's attention immediately. "No way," he exclaimed, a little too loud for either Donny's or Mikey's liking. "You've gotta be kidding, so he doesn't know about you guys sneaking off half of the time?"

"That's not something we talk about, Casey," grounded Don. His brown eyes shifted towards the doorway of the dojo and then pointedly back at Casey. "If you want everyone in more trouble then be my guest and announce it to the world. But Leo's being cautious because we go disappearing one too many times and Master Splinter's going to be suspicious. He already is and we can't keep covering our tracks. We have to save those times for when April's in danger or the foot starts threatening us. Even you being here is jeopardizing us."

A frown folded across Casey's lips causing him to withdraw momentarily. A fight with Don, king of logic, tended to be somewhat pointless when Don had a point. He tended to win those sorts of battles. Firstly, he used the method of a lengthy speech about how things worked in a foreign language and secondly, Don tended to be right about most things anyway. Besides, if there is something that Don didn't know, he was blunt about it. It usually meant him living in his lab for days on end.

"Sorry about being such a problem, then," grumbled Casey in an unappreciative manner. "Maybe April and I shouldn't be going down here all the time if we're 'jeopardizing' or whatever."

What was probably suppose to be a good point on Casey's side concerning the love triangle between April Casey and Donny, actually hurt Casey's side. Mikey knew better, and worse, Don knew it too. In fact, Don was practically in victory gloating mode at the moment. Mikey sighed, awaiting the inevitable, and after all his fine work at preventing another outbreak in the lair. At the least, Mikey could count his lucky stars that he now had someone to share his troubles with. Ice cream Kitty was always the best listener of all.

"Actually, April is in just as much 'jeopardy' as the rest of us. She's being tracked too if you haven't been following," began Don, not bothering to keep the know-it-all voice from protruding.

Any good mood that Casey might have had, downward spiraled at that point. Don decided to gloat over his victory back in his lab. That meant that Mikey was going to have to clean up the pieces that his brothers left once again.

Mikey sucked in a breath before elbowing his new human friend. "It's nothing personal, really. Don just likes to win arguments. It's sort of his expertise…unless it's Leo, then it's sort of their expertise."

Casey cracked a smile at that. "I kind of figured that one. It's why Raph is so upset all the time, two know-it-all brothers. It's like double Irma's running around. At least, Raph has a good brother in you."

Needless to say, Mikey had to withhold a snort in that comment. He knew for sure that Raph didn't think himself too lucky, what with all the pranks Mikey pulled all the time. But if Casey was giving him a compliment, who was he to pass the opportunity down?

"Casey, are you still in there?" Raph called in a hushed tone.

"Raph!" cheered Casey only to be shushed.

Raph ran over and clamped a hand on Casey's mouth, indicating silence. "Listen, Leo's in the middle of meditation and I need to get back. Why don't we get on out of here in the early morning? We'll get some practice in yet. 'Sides, bad guys don't get that much sleep, am I right?"

Casey grinned from ear to ear as he pushed the three fingered hand from his mouth. "Yeah. I'll meet ya on the rooftop above my parent's apartment at one."

Then Casey turned towards Mikey. "If ya wanted to come-"

"No, not Mikey," groaned Raph, stopping half-way from heading back to whatever task Master Splinter had given him. Mikey feigned heartbreak, clutching onto his plastron and flipping onto his back.

"Oh the pain of not being wanted!" Mikey bellowed, though kept his tone soft and lighthearted. Raph rolled his eyes and Casey chuckled.

It was then that Raph warned his youngest sibling with a, "Mikey…"

"Ok, ok," Mikey whined. "I've got it. Big brothers only. Geez, Raph. I didn't even want to go anyways. I've got comics to read. And April's bringing over more as soon as I finish my stack anyways."

Raph grinned and then gave Casey the thumbs up before boogying back into the dojo. Casey mimicked the motion before getting up. "I guess that means I should get a little early shut eye."

Mikey waved a hand nonchalantly before spinning back to a particularly interesting program. His eyes were immediately glued. Though he did manage a, "See ya later," to Casey before the other left.

Casey might have said something, but Mikey wasn't too sure. He was already becoming inhumanly absorbed in what was happening on screen. If there was one thing Mikey could do right, it was the ability to focus if his mind was in it. Usually, he had extra encouragement on that aspect from Master Splinter when it came to practice and in the not so fun way. But for the fun stuff, he could rival Leo's concentration.

What Mikey didn't know was that the little rebellion that had taken place right in front of his eyes was going to be the breaking point of their families secluded secrecy. Had he known that this was going to be the last night in the lair, he might have hesitated in telling Master Splinter of the plans his older brother and human friend set forth. But he didn't and would always remember that he didn't as long as he lived.


	2. Chapter 2

**One Disaster too Many**

**Chapter 2**

Had Raph not known where Casey's where about were nor had been trained to pay attention to keen details, he would have missed the teenage vigilante easily. As it stood though, Raph had both of those things in his favor and so dropped out of the sky in front of Casey.

It startled the human enough to step back before the hesitation slumped off the boy's shoulders. "You're gonna get killed someday doing that."

"Not by you if you move that slow," retorted Raph, a smirk planted on his face as he pulled out his sai and flipped them in the air for good measure. Then, to illustrate his point, he jutted the sai upwards. "We're wasting dark. Let's get a move on before I get de-shelled by Lame-a-nardo again."

The two started off across the roof. "Come on, Raph. He isn't that bad."

Raph shot the other a dirty look. "You don't have to live with the guy. And you don't have to sit through his self-righteous lectures. If you ever did, then you might find your ears bleeding and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull from shear boredom."

Casey chuckled the gruesome image filling his mind. "Sounds like my Pop. The guy doesn't shut up when he thinks he's right!"

Raph chuckled, loving the comparison of his elder brother with Casey's old man. Leo did act a bit too old at times, when he wasn't hoarding his love for certain cartoon shows. It seemed fitting to the red masked turtle. Perhaps a bit mean, but fitting to think of Leo walking around waving a cane and hollering nonsense. Also fitting how that resemblance made Leo look like he was trying to become a less sensible version of their own father. Having too much fun with the idea, Raph figured, 'what could it hurt to egg on his friend into more name calling?'

"Now, think about having two Dads constantly nagging you."

Casey chuckled before releasing a low whistle. "Glad my life ain't that tough. At least, he isn't your mother, then you'd have to bring home flowers on Mother's Day and clean your room every night."

That made Raph roar in laughter as they picked up speed. Their eyes combing the streets below for any signs of discrepancy. It was New York City, so there was sure to be something happening in the alleys or around the back corners. A densely populated city, shared by all sorts of people, with all sorts of backgrounds and all sorts of ideals, was like a cesspool for all sorts of conflict. It was up to them to go hunting down the violence that might follow. After all, crime didn't normally go around boasting of it's great feats. A shame it didn't rest either. Though, that would put the two vigilantes out of a job.

Casey swung to the left. "There's something over here!"

Raph reeled around, feet spinning even before Casey could finish his sentence.

Both teens raced to the edge of the rooftop before shuffling their feet to a halt. Whereas Raph was silent in his stop, Casey skidded, shoes squeaking loudly for a second.

The sound made the trained ninja wince. Noise definitely wasn't Raph's friend. But he had already grown use to the fact that Casey hadn't put the years he had into the art of being a ninja and the way of invisibility. Besides, noise with Casey seemed inevitable anyways.

"How do you do that?" Casey snapped, annoyance clearly written on his face as if he'd read Raph's thoughts.

Before Casey had started out working with April and on the opposite side of the dojo to Master Splinter, his ears didn't register the heavy movement of his feet or the roars of thunder that blared from his attacks. It was like trying to watch a freight train on ice. Messy, unorganized, full of pitfalls and doing a terrible job at keeping still long enough to actually think about what he was doing. The very fact that Casey had said anything at all about the noise encouraged Raph that training with Master Splinter might actually be improving the guy. Barely, but improving nonetheless.

"Practice," Raph replied shortly, then flipped his attention towards a group of people exchanging words in the back of an alley.

Casey tensed for a moment. "Looks like someone's making a deal."

Raph smirked, his eyes narrowing on a very familiar dragon tattoo encompassing his left arm. "I thought these guys learned not to mess around."

"You know them?"

"Old friends," snorted Raph, amusement present. The sarcasm did not go unnoticed.

"They aren't causing any trouble at the moment-"

"They are always causing trouble and they still work for the Shredder," Raph growled, itching for a fight and knowing that the Purple Dragons had never been properly dealt with before. The last time Raph and his brothers came to settle the scores, the Purple Dragons ended up doing even more damage to Raph's family.

Behind the mask, Casey grinned back already following Raph's descent down the ladders. He made sure to keep as in tune with Raph's footfalls as he possibly could, understanding that his buddy knew what he was doing and how to do it. Casey had only defaulted to vigilante when he realized that there was something amiss in the city weeks ago. Before that he was a dedicated hockey player with half a chance of getting a scholarship if his grades improved. That was huge if.

The two slipped down the railings, stopping every now and then to make sure that they weren't detected.

Half way down.

So far so good.

They went down a few more flights before Raph leapt out behind a dumpster, tucking and rolling. Casey followed suite, foregoing all the grace. He was more focused on Raph's position versus the people in the alley. He'd heard about these guys, the infamous Purple Dragons. He had a run in with a few of their initiatives back at school. Mean initiatives. The other guys, speaking to the gang, looked really well put together though, business suites, tinted-glasses…the whole ordeal.

"This looks shady," commented Casey.

"More than shady…I don't trust these new guys."

"You still want to take them down?"

Raph stopped and glanced at Casey. His eyes sharpened as a decision formed in his mind. His attention resumed on the deal going down. Something in the pit of his stomach was keeping him from running head on into battle as he normally would. But there was something that just didn't sit right with him. Raph peered upwards, around their covered surrounding, feeling a bit too exposed, though no one could possibly have noticed them. "We'll wait and corner the Purple Dragons alone."

Casey nodded his approval.

The Purple Dragons stayed for a bit longer, their voices too low for either Raph or Casey to hear what was going on. Instead, the two waited in the shadows until the three men in suits walked off. That was when one of the dragons began to chuckle, his voice carrying through the alley.

"These guys don't give up," commented the amused dragon member. He was instantly shushed by the leader and remaining team member.

"They keep poking around here every other night and I don't like it too much," grumbled the leader, Fong, tugging on his open shirt and glancing around the alley way himself. Raph took note of that, knowing that whatever his gut was saying, Fong's was too. But they were approaching quickly and it was now or never to confront them. Raph wasn't one to let the opportunity pass by.

Raph got into position, leaning up against the dumpster, one hand on his sai. He indicated that Casey do the same. Casey quickly tugged out a hockey stick, gearing up for trouble. Raph waited before calling out, "So I take it that you all aren't friends then?"

That spun the Purple Dragons around. Each crouched in a defensive manner.

Fong stared hard at the two, his eyes shifting from Raph to Casey and then back to Raph. A vicious smile formed across his face. "Sid…"

One of the dragons went running from his side towards the turtle and the human teen. Raph dodged the initial attack, while Casey dealt with it from behind. Raph went after the leader.

Fong nodded in his other cohort's direction and the man spun off, heading right back through the alley again.

Raph watched. He debated following the other dragon, gut telling him that there was something amiss still, but he didn't much dwell on it when Fong started in on him.

"So, if it isn't the meddling turtles. You guys have no idea what kind of mistake you just made."

Raph twirled his sai and then jutted them out in front of him in a showy manner. "The only mistake made was you and your buddies forming a gang and terrorizing people. I would say that you should take a break every once in a while, but…I like wiping the floor clean with ya."

"Just remember, we didn't start the fight," Fong taunted, having far too much pleasure with the situation. It was almost like he knew something was going to happen. He was far too smug for Raphael's liking and quite honestly, a sai sticking through his face would be the most pleasurable thing Raph could think of at the moment.

"You're still working with Xever?"

Fong's grin broadened. A sure sign of a yes.

An open invitation.

Raph charged forwards and was on the leader in a flash.

* * *

Sid was a bigger guy than Casey was use to fighting. Generally, Casey stuck to the foot-bots that came barreling after April, or an occasional mutant that he indirectly had to handle. But this guy was built and didn't mind throwing his weight around.

That didn't mean that Casey was intimidated. Actually, it meant the opposite. Casey was thrilled at the prospect of getting to take down the big guy, while Raph kept the scrawny leader busy. It meant future bragging rights for him when this was over.

Twirling his hockey stick around, Casey slammed it down on the big guy's arms whenever the jutted out too far, side stepping all his attacks easily. The guy was a bit slow to top things off. Casey was far from concerned.

"Hold still," Sid growled, becoming exceedingly frustrated with Casey's spurious bouts of motion. Casey was running circles around him and he knew it.

The command was enough to make the teen laugh as he yanked himself back from another flying fist.

Casey chanced a peek in Raph's direction and was thoroughly pleased to see that Raph was now cleaning up his mess, sitting directly on top of the leader with a weapon under his chin. Every now and then the point would touch Fong's nose.

"So those weren't Shredder's robots or nothing?" Raph questioned, interrogation mode taking over. "Because I'm finding it a little hard to believe that a gang under Xever is working alongside anyone else in this city."

Fong watched the sai, his eyes not leaving the weapon. "They came to us. They said they were some secret service government guys or whatever they called themselves. All I know is that we've been told to avoid 'em and they keep coming back."

"What could they want with you?"

Finally, the two eyes rose, meeting the jade green of Raph's own. They stood like that for a moment, hesitation on the leaders face as footfalls came echoing back through the alleyway. Each echo seem to embolden the Purple Dragon leader. "Me? You mean, what could they want with you?"

The sudden change in conversation had Raph's eyes flinging toward the final member of the Purple Dragon as he came running back onto the scene. An acute awareness that someone was potentially after him made Raph hop off the leader in a flash and run towards Casey. If that was the case, then the Purple Dragons could be chased down some other time. There might be more pressing matters to deal with at the moment.

Raph inwardly cursed his luck running dry from exposure. It was the last thing that he wanted to drag home with him. Master Splinter would have him running the dojo for weeks under surveillance and Leonardo...he'd probably rub it into Raph's face about how many visits topside Casey and he took on a weekly basis since becoming friends.

"Case, we might have company!" Raph shouted as his eyes scanned the alley for any signs that someone might be there. His grip tightened on his sai, eyes narrowed, feet shuffled against the loose pebbles of concrete. There was bound to be someone coming and Raph wouldn't dare let a couple secret government agents go without questioning them thoroughly. He was plenty ready to take them on if need be. After all, they were only guys in suites, nothing more, nothing less. If they were anything like the old time TV movies that he watched with his brothers back in the lair, these guys would flatten in seconds.

Casey had warn his new sparing partner out. The heavy muscles and thick torso wasn't helping the guy in the least. Casey's sinewy form was perfect for dodging and ducking. When combined, Casey prevailed in the long run.

"Oh come on, not quitting already," Casey teased, tossing his hockey stick in his opposite hand and reeling it back. He let it fly at the dragon's face, smacking him upside the head. It was enough to send the man dancing back and forth before collapsing in exhaustion and dizziness. "I guess you are."

Raph sent the other a glare. "Case, company's a'comin'."

That made the teen spin, hockey stick readied for more action. Raph tore his sai through the air, snapping it in front of him, position readied as well. They stood still, quiet, as someone approached.

The men didn't much have footfalls that squeaked or slammed into the ground. They was deathly silent and very light on his feet. If it wasn't for the three men eventually making it into the dim street light, then Raph might have second guessed anyone being there. As it stood, he was already second guessing himself about all this with the knots piling up in his stomach. Everything felt tilted, shifted, drained of energy.

Raph's shoulder's tensed at this new sensation. He felt this before, when they'd met the Shredder, when they met someone bent on taking the four turtles down. Why he felt that threatened now didn't make much sense. He was overreacting. He had to have been. He didn't have the same premonitions and senses that Master Splinter or his older brother had. He wasn't able to distinctly rationalize with his gut all the time. He just moved through his feelings blindly, trusting them to work with him, for him.

"Hello," greeted someone from behind. Raph spun like a top, eyes widened at the fact that someone sneaking up on them from behind. Whereas the other guys had been moderately silent, this guys had been completely undetectable.

Raph backed away, aware that he and Casey had been trapped.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the most diconcerting part, as the lone man continued his greeting with a, "You must be Raphael."

That was unnerving.

"Maybe," Raph growled, unsure if he should straight out lie or just agree and move on to the 'how did you know?' step of the conversation.

"So, you're with your friend tonight and not with your brothers." There was no question in that. However, that didn't mean that the guy wasn't fishing for more information if Raph decided to say something about that statement. What this guy wanted to know, Raph wanted to know first. Even though he wasn't good at mind games, he certainly knew what they were and what could be frustrating about them. He just needed to remember not to get frustrated first.

The man stepped out, his black suit flawless and his dark hair slicked back neatly. The guy sneered down at the two teens from behind his thin rimmed glasses as if assessing an interesting specimen that needed work. Raph didn't like it at all.

"What do you want?"

The man pushed up his glasses, and slipped his arms behind his back, hands clasping together. "I'm highly intrigued with you and your brother's involvement with the Kraang aliens."

Raph felt his skin tingle with unknown anticipation. "Yeah? Well, get "un"-intrigued. It'll do us both a favor."

The man smirked. It was cocky and condescending. "I'm afraid that I cannot disinvest my time in this. I have certain obligations and quotas that I need to complete. You are one of those quotas. It would be safer for everyone involved if we make this transition as smoothly as possible and you and your brothers come with me."

A bark of laughter took over the void between the man and the turtle. "You've gotta be kidding me. You think we're just going to follow someone who we don't know to who knows where? We might be just getting use to human kind and all, but we don't go tailing after strangers because they say so."

The man remained calm, face holding so perfectly still, Raph had to question if the man was even paying attention to anything in the first place.

"You will find that you don't have much a choice."

Raph snarled. "If you're threatening my family-"

"I don't consider myself threatening. But that doesn't mean that I'm not."

Casey was watching, unimpressed by the conversation and itching to get some action in. He tapped Raph with the heel of his stick and then began moving to the left. Without having to turn, Raph began to travel to the right. "We don't much like threats," was all Raph said, before Casey veered out, hockey stick blazing behind.

There was a split second that Raph stood in awe, complete unadulterated awe as the man, did absolutely nothing, completely relaxed despite Casey being in midair, hockey stick raised high like a banner over him. No fear crossed this man's stoic face.

Then another man darted out from the side, slamming Casey back only milliseconds before the vigilante could do any damage.

Raph let the moment of immobility pass. His awe dimmed in the light of the situation. If there was one thing that needed to happen it was to take this guy down, alongside his three buddies escorting him.

Sai poised, Raph charged forward, his eyes narrowing keenly on the man, though he kept watch in his peripheral so as to not be thrown aside much like Casey had.

It seemed that the mysterious being wanted Raph for himself. No sooner did Raph's feet begin moving, did he throw up a hand, commanding the remaining two men to halt. That suited Raph just fine. He charged, his entire body ready to change positions if need be, for he was certain that he didn't need much of his weight to pull down the thin, tall man in front of him. It was obvious that the guy wasn't about allow himself to be bulldozed into oblivion on the first go around.

Just as Raph suspected, at the last second, the man moved. But Raph was ready.

Steering to the right, Raph threw the brakes on, using the edge of the roof to spin him around, flipping in the air with sai extended as he drove back around for a second shot. This time, he knew he had the other man pinned in his sights.

Just as he was about to slide out for swiping the man off his feet, suddenly the other disappeared in such a flash that Raph stopping himself only ended in him tripping mid-attack. Feet tumbling over his head, he caught himself on the other side, feet skidding apart, ready for any fists or feet flying in his direction.

Instead the man stood there, one eyebrow raised high above those trapezoidal glasses. The expression was still a mystery, an irritating one at that. Raph gave a snarl, teeth showing a bit. He was fed up with this guy, this know it all attitude. Hadn't he just dealt with the same sort of attitude from his brother? Wasn't that the reason he was out blowing steam now?

Casey seemed to be struggling as well, one of the men holding him off from joining, but not entirely pinning him down. Casey was like their ping pong ball and they were the paddles keeping it in a selective space.

Whoever these guys were, they were tough. Maybe a little too tough. Though, Raph didn't want to think along those lines yet.

So far he hadn't technically been beaten by anyone in a fist to cuffs. He'd followed when his older brother reduced the team to a retreat, something that Raph hated to do, but still considered himself undefeated. There were only two people he knew that he just didn't have skill enough to get to. The first was his master, Master Splinter and the second was his master's archenemy, the Shredder. This guy was neither of the two. No need for him to run with his tail between his legs…yet.

A thunk alerted him that Casey either down, or had finally thrown off his opponent.

Raph didn't risk the glance. This new guy, government agent, suit, man in black, whatever he was suppose to be, was fast. A little too fast for Raphael's tastes. Nothing that he couldn't at least keep up with, but Raph was already breaking a sweat, much as he didn't want to admit it.

That only meant one thing. This guy was messing with him.

Raph bit back a few choice words ringing in his head. His gut dropped drastically with the realization.

He didn't like the idea of being toyed with. He liked the idea less that he wasn't exactly on the seemingly winning side. And from the lack of Casey by his side, there wasn't much room for error.

Then, the lead-man smirked as if this were all too much fun. A challenge was geared towards Raph's direction, making this entire exchange more and more unbearable. "I can see you're trained. You're considerably better than I was originally anticipating."

Growling, Raph pushed himself harder. He didn't know if that was suppose to be a complement or an insult, but it didn't much matter until he won.

"I suppose you only have four years worth of training. Most of the foot I've come across tend to bend and break within the first couple minutes."

"There's no way you're just some suit," Raph commented aloud, not realizing that he had done so. It didn't matter though. It earned him an answer anyway.

With a sudden burst of energy, the man flipped one eighty and threw a leg straight into the back of Raph's shell. It flipped Raph head over heels. "You would be correct, Raphael. I'm not an ordinary agent."

With less grace, Raph managed to hop up. He warbled a bit, unable to catch his balance right off the bat. The momentary struggle made Raph more than a little alarmed. Balance, internal balance was something that had been drilled into his mind repeatedly. Without the foundations of his teachings, he'd flounder in his fighting.

This wasn't looking good at all.

He wasn't backing away necessarily. He was just getting a wider view of his situation, his slowly dwindling successful one.

Then out of nowhere, Casey sprang into action. He must have somehow gained the upper hand after all and escaped the other goons. Unlikely, but Raph was taking any luck he could get at the moment and running with it.

Raph smirked before tucking his sai back. It was the perfect opportunity to vanish. "Case!"

Casey took one last swing, warding off the group before chasing after his friend.

They darted off into the shadows, no footsteps on their tail. Neither watched as the men were held back by their leader's hand. The dark haired man was still smirking broadly as if if everything had gone exactly as it should, his hands folded behind his back before walking over to one of the men hunched over a mini laptop.

"We're on them, Sir."


	3. Chapter 3

**One Disaster too Many**

**Chapter 3**

"Was that the Shredder guy you guys keep talking about?" puffed Casey. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open, gulping in as much oxygen as he possibly could. The legendary foe was something that Casey had been told about but had never seen before. However, the stories from the encounter with the Shredder were told such that the comparison was almost spot on in skill. So close in skill that it wasn't a very welcomed question whatsoever.

Raph, likewise was trying to pull himself back together, unsure about how badly they had lost, and a bit confused that they had escaped in the first place. How they managed to evade anything that man did was beyond his belief at the moment. This guy, dubbed "trouble", he was good. Worse, "Trouble" seemed to know that he was good and boasted about it by wiping the floor clean with the two teens, one of which had plenty of training and easily beat his two younger brothers all the time.

The man wasn't even breaking a sweat when they somehow darted out of view. Too easy, Raph's mind screamed as he stood there a while longer, just breathing for the sake of breathing. In the back of his mind, he knew that he needed to get Casey and himself further away, out of reach from this guy, unconsciously choosing directions that were familiar and felt safe. His mind was too rattled to think of the consequences.

"Come on," Raph panted, taking Casey's wrist and tugging the human teen along. "We aren't gonna wait for him."

Casey allowed himself to be dragged over the the sewers. He was still puffing a bit, a frown on his face as he stated, "You didn't answer my question."

Raph bit back the need to growl at the other. He didn't want to start in on a list of defeats right now with his mind all jumbled on this mystery guy. He still wasn't over the fact that the man seemed to know him. It would be the second human that knew a little too much about the family than he thought would be necessary and Leo wasn't going to be happy to hear about this. Master Splinter was going to have them locked down forever after this too. Leo was going to act like a prison guard for the remainder of the sentence, and that lecture that Raph was sort of hoping to avoid, that was going to happen. It seemed inevitable now though. He was going to get it for sure, because he shouldn't have snuck out, because he was going to be the messenger that brought back bad news. Unless, of course, he didn't...The thought deliciously rolled around in Raph's head as they continued forward for a moment.

"Raph?"

Raph blinked, mind returning to the task at hand and the ease in which they got away. "It's not the Shredder, Casey. I don't know who the heck this guy is. But he's messing with my turf now, so he'd better watch his back."

They continued forwards. "They aren't following us at least."

That was what Raph feared. They always pursued. But these yahoos didn't even try. They weren't even bothering with them and they could easily, much to Raph's chagrin, overpower them. Why didn't they just take them while they had them?

Between the adrenaline, Raph's mind was pumping through the conversation all over again, his previous plans of this going untold falling into the background. This needed to be focused on right now and later other decisions.

Raph might not be a genius like Don, preferring to work through his problems with less thinking and more physical means, but he was no dummy either. Donny was the sort to stay away from his enemy. He, like Leo were the sort to observe their enemies from afar before launching an attack. Raph didn't like to give his enemies the opportunity. He didn't care for scouting, knowing every little detail of his enemy, even spying on the enemy by planting a bug in their secret base to find out more information... Something flickered on, like a proverbial light bulb that had Raph screeching to a stop.

"Case!"

"Whoa!"

The teen human slammed directly into the arm of his best friend, gut bending over as he tried to catch his suddenly lost breath. Noticing that he had winded his friend, Raph sent an apologetic glance Casey's way.

"Sorry. Just…That was too easy." He finally stated out loud, repeating the same phrase that had been on replay in his head since they got underground.

"Yeah," Casey grunted impatiently. He puffed out through inhales. "Good."

"No not good. The guy knows way too much. He threatened my family. If he wanted us…It wasn't like…I mean this guy is trained."

"He was killing us, I get it," interjected Casey, offering the words that Raph wasn't about to say. "So what? We aren't being hauled off."

"But why?"

That made Casey stop. A blank look crossed the other's face before Casey rolled his eyes. "Like it matters…?"

"Bonehead," Raph grumped. His head was still working around in circles. One after another until they were spiraling into a single conclusion, one that he knew that no one knew about except the selected, trusted few. "Check yourself."

"Wha-?"

"Just check your clothes!"

It came out a little harsher than Raph had intended it be, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing.

Casey suddenly began to pull at his jacket, his shirt, his head band… "Um…This isn't debris…"

Raph picked up the small chip and crushed it in his fingers. They were being tracked and this agent guy was, just as Raph expected, not about to let them go. Too easy, his shell.

"Raph, what were you thinking?"

"We _are_ being followed. Don makes these tracker things all the time-"

For a second, Casey looked completely taken off guard. That was before he stared down at the squished device and groaned. "Crap. Haven't you watched any of those spy shows? You don't squish the tracker in front of your house, you've got ta throw them off guard or something."

Raph glanced back down at the broken machine in his hand. The bubbling of an 'oops' popped into his mind. Thankfully, he was far too upset for any of that. "Well, it's too late now. Unless they've got one on me."

Casey went to work, spinning Raph around by the lip of his shell. Raph protested mildly, but Casey had already dug along the inside of the top of Raph's shell. "Looks like they spotted you too, bud."

The cheeky smirk was wiped away when Raph flipped back and slapped the device from Casey's hand. "These guys don't quit…"

Grabbing an empty aluminum can from along the walls, Casey brought it back over and held it out. "Bottoms up?"

Taking both devices, Raph slipped them inside the can. Casey walked over, crunching the can a bit so the water wouldn't flood inside and set it into the murky water. "Let's see them chase sewers."

Raph stared as he watched the can bob in the water, slowly rocking out of sight.

Casey threw his hands behind his neck, eyeing his friend trudging beside him. They weren't heading in any direction in particular, but definitely they hadn't even gotten so much as twenty minutes into their nightly routine. That, under normal circumstances, didn't bode well with either of them. Even under the present circumstances, Casey was still a bit miffed at being interrupted so early on and clearly not as upset as Raph seemed to be about what had happened.

"You know," drawled Casey, reflecting his inner thoughts. "The night is still young."

Raph, remained staring straight ahead, purposely in the opposite direction of the disappearing can. The evidence was gone, but the unease was still there. The dubbed "trouble" had come up from behind, almost like he knew where they were long before the purple dragons dragged back those other guys in suits.

He should be going back to his family now, warning them of what he knew. He really should be, but that lingering thought of what life was going to be like when or even if he did confess. Did he really want to go back to that? He needed more time to think about it and Casey's offer was music to his ears.

"If we went out one of the South tunnels…." drawled Raph, slowly contemplating his own idea and finding that he really liked it.

The two slowly turned towards each other, a grin forming on their faces. Then without even having to announce it the two started running, racing the other along the tunnel walls. Crude names bounced back and forth as laughter trailed the two. The thoughts of worry left behind for later.

Neither thought that they might have given away too much already.

* * *

One of the lights went out on the monitor. The other paused before starting to travel down one of the sewer lines immediately after.

"They're on to us, sir."

The leader waved a hand carelessly. His eyes stared at the empty position where the first dot had vanished. Then they flickered towards the one traveling a little too slowly to be accurate any longer. He made quick mental note of both coordinates confirming the last of his suspicions. "They aren't even close," reflected the raven haired leader, moving his glasses up along the bridge of his nose.

He pulled out a tiny ripped piece of paper, circles drawn over the areal image, each of sewer lines that were located in proximity of the spot that the dot on the screen had bleeped off at. No matter how many different manholes they might come from, there were only so many that they frequently ran to when they were in danger and Bishop knew every single one of them. Now he could pinpoint a location, he could find their nest. His knowledge of the tunnels was astounding comparatively to the short time that he had to memorize every nook and cranny. His men had also been through all the sewer lines, each taking their time to quietly tip toe around them and familiarize themselves with the initial set up. It was only through careful observation and his own reports did Bishop have a fairly good idea of which cement wall was not suppose to be in place. It had taken him a few weeks to dredge through all the old underground maps of the city, diagrams of the new tunnels, ones of the old system, even off shoots and half built areas that remained outside of the public's eyes. All it took was for one wall to be out of place for Bishop to conclude that something was amiss.

Putting together the fragments of all he knew, all he gathered within the past couple months on the activity of mutants in New York City, the leader was thrilled in gathering his latest and final puzzle piece. Those two teens had unwittingly proved all his fine work and theories to the point that Bishop could not be wrong. They might have been trained, but they were new; very, very new and naive to think that they could go on without taking all the extra precautions. The foot might not follow them, choosing their battle above the skylines most days and the Kraang have always been the sort to become easily confused in a surprise battle, but that did not mean that everyone the turtles met played by the same rules. If they didn't know how to keep themselves hidden away quietly then someone was going to eventually wait long enough to exploit them.

Tonight they were about to have their first real world lesson about the darkness and disparity that man-kind could offer.

"Sir?" The man who spoke, questioned again.

But Bishop didn't seem to mind him any attention, mind already running over every memorized detail in great anticipation. Then, just as it had grown a little too quiet, Bishop stated, "We need our informant. He's been holding out on some... details. I want to make sure that he's in the exact position he needs to be for this all to work. Besides, I want to see what he's managed to scrounge up while he thought I wasn't looking."

The three men stood glancing back and forth at each other, awaiting for permission to move. None said anything remotely close to doubt. They were too well trained for that, had seen too much to second guess their leader. Bishop might be a man of mystery, but things always tended to work in his favor no matter what the course. The secret was in the complexity of his planning and the minimization in how he carried things out. He never underestimated, no matter who, no matter what. Bishop always came out on his feet by the end.

When they weren't given any commands, they kept waiting patiently until one cleared his throat as soft as a whisper. Then in a more or less hushed voice questioned, "Agent Bishop, what would you like us to do?"

Agent Bishop slapped the screen shut on his small computer before standing up and meticulously brushing himself off. He didn't address anyone with him, nor did he care that his men had quite literally snapped to attention at his abrupt actions. Bishop took his time, working out the wrinkles and tucking in his collar.

Agent Bishop was, according to the others he was forced to run with, the icon of patience when chasing after something that he wanted, meticulously weaving his strategies together, studying and analyzing his prey before striking and impatience when working with others, especially those that didn't seem to understand his methodology.

Whatever time he needed to get ready, his men were trained enough to accept it.

Bishop turned, staring at each individual with such scrutiny that it was no wonder that he had talked his position into existence, directly under the executive branch. A made up one, but if no one argued with him, Bishop could do as he pleased.

"Let's go," was all he had to say for the team to head wordlessly out.

* * *

Paperwork plastered the walls, littered the tables, bunched up along the sofa and rickety old desk, piled up even in the small nooks and crannies. Photographs lined the walls with heavy ovoid marks drawn to reflect important features. In the spaces and gaps that neither picture nor papers resided, paint was peeling away from the number of times countless images must have been moved back and forth from wall to wall.

Bishop wasn't the sort to like disorder. He wasn't the sort to hold any appreciation on the decor of this place whenever he came here. But he did hold appreciation for the shear amount of labor, all the tedious work that went into every photograph, the painstaking counts of every journal entry. He'd seen most and was impressed that a man so disorderly could systematically work through the clutter as though it didn't exist.

Obsession did that though. If anyone knew obsession, it was Bishop.

"You're back," came a timid, deep voice. Bishop swung on the lights and allowed his other agents inside. The elder man donning a rimmed cap and brown leather jacket stepped back a notch. "And you brought company."

There was a careful look in the man's old hazel eyes, a wary one that had Bishop studying the man for any signs of just how unwelcome he and his crew were. It didn't seem enough to start a fuss over.

But that was Kurtzman for you. He liked his peaceful, dark corners, where he could work on his theories and categorize his findings. He was a little too old to be hobbling around on his own, trudging up information, but he had been fed enough to keep him happily busy by Bishop and his men and unconsciously persuaded to stay out of too much trouble. That and he had finally managed to do something quite useful that had recently been reported to Bishop. Kurtzman managed to earning himself the trust of five very special beings, a feat that none of his men could handle. The investigator that started out as a leach and an irritation to Bishop's own investigations, actually became the key to Bishop's final pieces.

"How about some coffee for my men," Bishop stated, flicking a photograph off the wall and moving towards the next.

Scurrying out of the way, Kurtzman quickly dodged the narrowed glances and made his way into his kitchen. The sink turned on and the clutter of china echoed in the tiny apartment.

"I hear that you've come into contact with the turtles recently," Bishop began, louder than before. His hands were already dipping into drawers, pulling out ramblings of an old man fed partial truths. Anything to keep him both in and out of the loop. Kurtzman was slowly wearing away his use, but luckily had a great eye for details and photography. It was his only salvageable quality outside of the secret meetings he held behind Bishop's back. Kurtzman was foolish to not know that Bishop religiously kept tabs on anyone who got too close to his projects.

Bishop tore another photo from the wall. This one portrayed all the four mutant turtles gliding along the rooftops. Bishop pocketed the image without asking permission first. Then he continued on, his hands running over scrolls of rolled up paper alongside the second drawer. Frowning, Bishop unraveled a book inside and flipped through the pages. It was all quite interesting, the clippings pasted and glued to fit the tale of Kraang presence. It wasn't until he flipped to one page, a human formulated replica, April O'Neil's origins did Bishop stop, fingers crumpling the bottom of the page. The furrow of his brow increased and frown deepened as he ripped the page and following three out from the book. Then, tucking the papers away and tossing the book on the desk, Bishop continued shuffling through the drawers a bit more curious than before.

The frown decreased as he pulled each out papers in handfuls. Carefully scanning them and finding nothing too alarming about any of them.

"They didn't stay long enough for me to really hold a conversation with them," answered Kurtzman from the other room, while Bishop's men seemed torn between watching Bishop, to glancing at the images, back to Kurtzman.

Bishop rose an eyebrow at the lack of hurry in the answer and the careful tone Kurtzman had taken. He didn't bother to glance up as he unraveled schematics of the city. He noted the red dots, the harsh lines, scribbles off to the side and the rest of the hieroglyphics that might take years for an ordinary man to decipher. Luckily, he had the decoder of the turtles' lair right at his finger tips.

"I met with Raphael tonight. He has a new friend, local hockey player by the looks of it," commented Bishop as Kurtzman allowed the water to percolate. "I've seen him before, recently. What do you know about him?"

"I haven't really met anyone other than the turtles and the O'Neil girl, briefly. I might have scared them away a bit, so it's unsurprising that I don't know much more than that."

Bishop turned, eying the man and finding the older man shuffling. He wasn't looking Bishop in the eyes either. A sure sign of a lie. Investigator or not, this man wasn't from the strong, reckless era of dishonesty and deceit playing such a heavy role in society. He was an honest man in his time, doing an honest job once upon a time. Now he was wrapped up in something much bigger than himself and had managed to change sides, choosing to protect the mutants. It was a shame that Kurtzman had to meet them, more than once too. Bishop no longer pulled the strings to his thought process, but Bishop understood that long before he arrived here. He expected this behaviour from Kurtzman.

Humming, Bishop flipped back to the schematics, pushing the ones that meant nothing to him and then plucking the ones that held the tunnels of the sewer system in them. He laid it on top of the desk, feigning great interest in it as soft foot steps approached.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" Kurtzman butted in, curiosity getting the better of him.

A moment passed, giving Kurtzman ample time to glimpse at the map. Bishop tactfully countered the question with, "I believe the coffee should be almost done now."

Kurtzman sent one last worried glance down at the blueprints before disappearing into the kitchen once again. It was about this time that one of the other agents came up to Bishop. "Sir, he isn't giving away any information."

Humming softly, Bishop continued to stare at the inked lines in the same fascination that he had given his computer screen. " He is, more than he knows. It's just a stroke of fortune that he seems to have taken a liking to the mutants."

"Might that be dangerous for us. He might warn them of how he got half of his information-"

"He is actually more of a help than a problem at the moment."

Bishop's finger traced a circle from around the spot the tracker fell dead to a circle close by, a subway station, left abandoned and blocked in from construction problems further down the tunnel. The project had been scrapped without anyone knowing, but Bishop had gotten his hands on every last government paperwork of the sewers. That little hiccup in judgement for construction, like quite a few others, made little doubt in Bishop's mind that mutants would be hiding in one of those abandoned projects. "We move immediately. Just as we've planned time and time again, gentlemen. Everything starts now, before things begin to become too complicated."

With that being said, Bishop walked out the door, his crew following him from behind.

An alarmed Kurtzman, raced out from the kitchen and tried trailing along behind. "Agent Bishop! The coffee is ready!"

Bishop just continued forward as if he had heard nothing.

When the attempt didn't work, Kurtzman tried the direct approach.

"They aren't the enemy," Kurtzman called. His voice thick with a blend of desperation and anger. Bishop wasn't listening. In fact, Kurtzman didn't even know how much he could persuade Bishop when Bishop's mind was set on something. But he knew that whatever was happening in the other's head, a plan was already completely in place, with scrupulous detail and loose ends snipped. He had known that about Bishop since the beginning, when he stumbled into the man in his own apartment, doing just as he did tonight; rummaging. Kurtzman had found himself warring between distrust and curiosity. One had out-weighed the other.

In one last despairing endeavor, Kurtzman couldn't help but yell down the hall, mind frenzied by what Bishop's mysterious scheme could be in terms of revenge on the Kraang invasion of Earth. "They could be assets in our fight against the aliens."

That caught Bishop's attention as he turned back.

For one brief second, hope sprung into Kurtzman's mind as if reason had somehow transpired between the two. Then that same predatory, narrowed-eye glare could barely be seen from behind the shaded lens of the man's glasses. All hope shriveled leaving the older man parched of what he could do to stop this.

"Oh, I can assure you, Mr. Kurtzman, they are." Then a little more ominously, Bishop repeated, "They are."

The group of men then vanished as quickly as they had stormed in. The plans of the sewer lines burned the image in the back of Kurtzman's eyes, hauntingly resting upon his desk, when he shrank back into his little apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey everyone. This is more or less my take on what I like to think of as Nickelodeon's new and improved Master Splinter since the return of the Rat King. I had almost lost all hope in the reincarnated Splinter being of any help to his sons, until the last few episodes of season 2. My faith in his parenting skills has been somewhat restored and hopefully this chapter will reflect it.

**One Disaster too Many**

**Chapter 4**

Startled awake, the eyes belonging to a sizable grey rat snapped open, awakening from a nightmare of sorts. It hadn't been the first time he had nightmares of his sons battling for their lives, doubting his own ability to protect them from the reoccurrence of his past demons. Though those nightmares had increased since Oroku Saki became an intricate player in these battles. Then, the terrors only grew, increased to exponential rates at the idea that his daughter, his flesh and blood, was still in the midst of great danger. It was because of her, because of what could have been that Splinter grown uncertain of his parenting skills, wondering if allowing his sons to continue their battles above ground was the correct course of action. Already, his sons were struggling without his aid topside. If they continued on, what would his enemies have in store for them next.

Weeks of reflecting and these daily night-terrors had kept Splinter from allowing his sons roam the rooftops. As father, Master Splinter wanted peace within himself before he could give permission to his sons as to what was right for their family. He would not lose any more of his family to Oroku Saki's hands. It was why he had chased after April. It was why he ran to his sons' aid. It was why he now second guessed his own actions, finding it easier to let everything simmer down on the surface and keep his children alongside him. When he found himself internally calmed, he would be able to think rationally through the next phases of what would be best for his pupils.

Though, these nightmares were only making thoughts run wild, turbulent in his mind. Peace was nowhere to be found. Not any time soon, at least.

Rubbing a paw through the beads of sweat that gathered in the short tufts of hair along his brow, Master Splinter found himself trying to concentrate on the present and not the dark image that his mind had painted for him.

Taking in a short breath of sewer air, Master Splinter stared up at the ceiling, eyes focusing before cracking shut. His mind slowly cleared. The aftertaste of horror evaporating from thought, leaving a trail of peace as the void filled the spaces between what was and what could have been. Everything was fine. His sons were with him. April was with her aunt. Casey was at home. Miwa would not be harmed as long as she remained unaware of who she was.

Yet...something was off.

Trusting instinct as always, Master Splinter arose from his mat sprawled across the floor and rubbed his forehead. It was late and surely Donatello would be the only one awake at this hour. Nonetheless, he would poke his head in and give his son a soft scolding before checking to be sure that everything was as it should be. Then, he too would fall back asleep, forgetting his silly dreams yet another endless night.

Arising to make his rounds, Master Splinter found the hushed, muted glow slipping between the cracked open lab door. Though there was a budding of irritation at having to reprimand his second youngest son, Master Splinter couldn't help the fond smile from reaching his lips. Things were as they had always been.

Cracking the door open, Master Splinter noticed Donatello busily working off in the corner of the room, switching between computer screen to the make shift chemistry set the young mutant had drudged up from all those years of dumpster diving. zthe scenery's familiarity only aided in making Master Splinter feel more comfortable than he had been previously, lulling his anonymous unease away.

All he needed was to clear his throat before the purple masked turtle flew up from his seat in such a speed that his shell rapped against the table. The glassware teetered momentarily before coming to a halt. A three fingered hand quickly stopping the glass beakers and test tubes from rattling.

"Donatello," began the elder mutant, trying to hide the amusement from his voice, forcing sternness to stand in it's place. How many times did this scenario play out within the last month? Master Splinter could not count them on his fingers alone. "We have discussed this."

Donatello could help but smile meekly. "It can't be that time of night again. Sensei, I promise I'm almost through with this...I've almost figured out how to make the mutagen useless completely and that will bring me one step closer to a cure. I know that I've said this every night this week, but I'm really onto something big right now."

Master Splinter could not help but watch as his second youngest son tried to explain away his actions. Donatello was the true middle child, making as much peace as he possibly could, and trying to rectify everything from his brother's arguments to the household appliances. The situation with April's father had been the driving factor to pushing Donatello from his late nights to all nighters, fixing a situation he felt solely responsible for. But even if Donatello's kindness had burdened him with this chore, it did not mean that Master Splinter would entitle the teen sacrifice his health.

"You can start up again in the morning."

A most dejected look crossed Don's face as he humbly bowed his head more from disappointment. "Yeah...I guess."

"Donatello," Master Splinter called, gaining the other's attention. When those tired brown eyes peered upwards, Splinter continued. "I am certain that you will be able to come up with a solution for Mr. O'Neil in time, but understand you must learn to understand, this was not your doing. April knows this as well."

The faintest of smiles crossed Donatello's face as he glanced back at the mess of paperwork and chemicals. Master Splinter could almost hear the cranking in Don's head as he processed and computed the evidence leading to Master Splinter's words. Interrupting such a process would not prove beneficial. It was better to allow Donatello's mind to run it's course, allowing him to go to sleep with uplifting thought than remind him of the time once again and have his mind shut off the kind words in favor of obedience. Either way, Donatello would soon do as he was told.

After watching his son for a few moments longer and shaking his head, it was time for Master Splinter to pull himself from the lab's doorway and continue on.

He hadn't gone very far when he heard fabric shifting in the living room, forcing Splinter's attention.

"Master Splinter?" came a groggy voice from the couch.

Splinter's ears flickered in that direction catching words now.

The logical conclusion was that Michelangelo had passed out in one of his infamous movie marathons. However, the television was not a blur of static nor did the voice didn't fit Michelangelo's higher pitch.

"Leonardo?" Splinter questioned, stepping around the couch to find that his eldest son was now sitting up as hurriedly as possible. The quick movements to wipe the sleep from his eyes alerted Splinter that Leonardo was determined to appear as if he had been up this entire time. Though that would not stop the mystery as to why Leonardo hadn't found rest in his own bed.

The unease began to stir inside once again.

Leo blinked around him before hopping off the sofa, becoming quite aware of his surroundings. There was almost a sheepishness to his voice that might have matched Don's a moment ago as Master Splinter watched his eldest's mind whirl to provide an explanation without incriminating himself. The hesitation spoke volumes to Master Splinter. It was quite obvious that Leonardo was attempting to come up with a way to hide his true intent without making falsities in the process. "I was just…um…uh..."

The stirring became more upsetting now, seeing Leo struggle with what to say and what not to say.

Master Splinter laid a four fingered hand on his son's shoulder, silencing his eldest. He hoped that it would also stop Leonardo from covering up whatever it was he was trying to hide. "You were waiting for something?"

An almost pained look crossed Leo's face, but it was quickly smothered with an apologetic one. His shoulder's remained tense even as he said, "I guess I just fell asleep on the couch. Sorry Sensei."

Master Splinter's attempt to encourage the full truth had not worked.

Worry tended to boil down into two categories for Leonardo. He was either too focused on his skill or lack of as leader and thoroughly convinced himself that he had failed or his family was in some sort of situation that Leonardo did not feel comfortable with.

The first category of worry could easily be dealt with. Leonardo would need a bit more encouragement, a few more words of wisdom and a bit more practice, whether it be meditative or physical. The second, however, was the more troubling one. It was the one that Master Splinter was also fearful of.

Master Splinter's ears flattened at the thought that Leonardo have found himself in a situation that was beyond his capability. Obviously, Leo had thought it best he handle things himself, most assuredly warning Splinter that it had something more to do with family.

Reeling into the conversation earlier today, Master Splinter could make out Raphael's and Leonardo's words just barely. It was not uncommon for the two to be fighting over most things now that they had entered their teenage years. But their arguments had shifted as of late from the role of leadership to something a bit more problematic...when to go topside.

Master Splinter straightened his head, ears flickering upwards as he glanced around. The sensitivity of his ears was able to catch the tinkling of glass being put away in Don's lab and the slightest of murmuring of Mikey's sleep talking from the other room, but he could not, for the life of him, make out Raphael's snoring.

A knot formed in Master Splinter's stomach as he tried to calmly question,"Where are your brothers?"

Leo fidgeted a little. He hesitated a bit before finally puffing out a, "Master Splinter…Raph and Casey went out. They haven't returned yet…I think..."

Inhaling deeply, Master Splinter closed his eyes. Then he opened them. "Leonardo."

He couldn't help but notice the slight wince in his eldest sons's face. The tone softened a bit as Master Splinter continued on. He didn't want his son to feel as if he was to blame for his brother's absence, but he needed for Leonardo to understand his responsibility was report issues such as these instead of taking them into his own hands. "How long have you known that Raphael and Casey were out?"

"Mikey told me this evening that they were going to meet up some time tonight."

When Master Splinter sighed heavily, Leo quickly interjected trying to plead his case. "I didn't know that he was going to leave so late. I was trying to stay awake so that I could catch him before he went, but I think...I might have..."

"This could have easily been avoided had you come to me," Master Splinter firmly replied. He sought to keep the edge from his voice, not wanting the bitterness of his nightmares to be thrown into Leonardo's face. Instead, he kept his mind purposely blank as he continued lecturing. "By volunteering to become leader, it rests on your shoulders as to your brother's whereabouts, even if it means that you must admit to someone that you are in need of assistance. I trust in your judgement on these decisions, Leonardo, which is why you are a leader."

The last few words were not so much a reprimand, but to demonstrate the shared burden of responsibility between father and son. Master Splinter did not want to discourage Leonardo's efforts for trying to be leader. Eventually, that role would need to be filled and the burden would fully transfer. But for the time being, Master Splinter needed to know where his sons were and what they were doing.

He could not as both father and teacher, allow his children to go

"I thought that you might think that I wasn't able to handle things if I didn't fix this myself," Leonardo confessed, peering downwards. He scanned the floor for a moment, before the teen picked up his head with a new resolve burning in his stormy blue eyes. "I'll go find him, Sensei."

Suddenly, there was a flashing of alarms that sprang up from around the room, near Donatello's lab.

Splinter was already poised for attack and Leonardo had copied his stance just as quickly.

The lab door came flying open and a wide-eyed Donatello stumbled out, fingers darting to something inside the lab, obscured by the wall. "Guys, we've got unwelcome company!"

Splinter sent a look at his eldest son. "Get Michelangelo up. Donatello, get our weapons."

Both boys went skidding in opposite directions, all the while leaving Splinter standing in the center of the room, unmoving. His eyes narrowed at the turnstiles and the darkness that laid beyond them. If the foot had discovered their whereabouts once again, Splinter was certain to make quick work of them before they could relay this location.

Michelangelo, Leonardo, and Donatello came zipping back in a flash, Don handing their respective weapons to each member of the family before glancing around and noticing that Raphael wasn't among them.

"He went to the surface again, didn't he?" Don deadpanned.

Mikey rolled his shoulders trying to shrug off his sleep, before sending Don a partial smirk. "He was crying about missing all the action."

"He didn't have to go far," commented Leo with a grumble before Master Splinter shushed his children. He was busy listening, making sure that nothing came at them unsuspectingly.

That's when he heard a click off in the distance.

He had second to react as his fingers pinched the incoming dart right before it reached his neck. All the boys glanced up wide eyed as Splinter dropped the dart and flipped his cain around, successfully smacking another two aimed in his general direction.

Leo managed to deflect one flying in his direction while Mikey expertly avoided another with a backflip.

The one targeting Don got jammed right into his staff.

Then a figure walked out, black suit, raven hair slicked back, hands clasped loosely behind his back. The way he stared down his lightly shaded glasses made him appear as if he were a scientist inspecting a test subject. The two dark eyes narrowed as he stepped in a bit closer, without any fear on his being whatsoever.

"Well, that was worthless," the man named stated. He kicked one of the syringes that Leo deflected, causing it to bounce along the uneven ground before smacking into the wall. Three other men came out of the shadows, they still had tranquilizers in hand and Master Splinter was unable to tell if they were reloaded. Most likely the answer was one that he wouldn't be pleased with.

"Who are you?" growled Splinter, taking a direct step in front of his sons. His parental instincts were kicking in over time the more he surveyed how very trapped they were.

"You can call me Agent Bishop. I've been observing the turtles for quite some while. I had expected a Hamato Yoshi, but not you. I see the mutagen has affected you as well. Nevertheless, I think it would be more preferable that my team analyze your family for the sake of humanities survival as opposed to what the Kraang might do when they succeed in capturing you."

Don sent Leo a questioning glance. "He knows about the Kraang?"

Though the inquiry was meant to be private, Bishop addressed it nonetheless. "Actually, I know quite a bit more than you think, Donatello. This unique family has developed much interest in private sectors of the government. Almost unbelievable at first, but the cameras everywhere don't lie about your involvement in this mess that we are desperately trying to keep under wrap in New York City."

Don frowned. He knew about the technology of the upper world, but had been extremely careful to block out camera fed when they were moving about. He had the system wired. Sure it was a little suspicious with black out in unison with their movements, but it was better than their faces being plastered on every federal agency out there. These guys were living proof of that.

Something must have happened, must not have worked right. There must have been a flaw in the system. It might also explain how they had been discovered since the foot soldier's interference in the alley. Don had chalked that up to luck back then, but perhaps, it wasn't as much luck as preparation. They had been a completely naive to the world topside when they first ventured out of the sewers. Don had only caught on to the cameras hiding around every corner after a few of their battles.

"We don't have any of the advancements that you require for bettering humanity down here," replied Master Splinter, eyes still narrow. "I would suggest that if you are as interested in the Kraang as you say, you intrude on their property instead of ours."

Bishop rose an eyebrow, amused at the threat. "I plan to do that as well…in time."

Splinter gave a weary glance as the men aimed their weapons.

"Boys!" was all he shouted, leaping to block view of his sons before darts went flying in their direction once again.

* * *

Kurtzman didn't much care for driving his car in the city. The streets were nearly always cramped and there were people day and night that did the strangest of things out in the middle of the road. He just didn't have the time or the patience to sit through all the shenanigans of everyday life. But at the moment, he really didn't have much of a choice.

His building wasn't within walking distance from a certain New York resident that remained his only contact to the mutant turtles. He had to make sure to get the word out to them before Bishop did anything that might sabotage Earth's only successful resistance to the Kraang invasion. If Bishop could manage to see that, maybe he would be more inclined to not carry through with his plans of hunting down every mutant he crossed because of Kraang involvement.

He parked his car across the street before hopping out and racing over to the apartment complex. He slammed his hand on the buzzer, giving the name and room number to someone inside.

It only took seconds for there to be a slurred, female voice to answer the buzzer. "Hello?"

The voice was much to old to belong to a certain red-haired sixteen year old. This must have been the infamous aunt that April had spoke of living with for the time being. Getting around her would prove challenging, unless by some off chance, her aunt knew about the turtles as well.

"My name is Kurtzman, I am a private investigator, and I am looking for April O'Neil."

The woman's voice flooded back into the speaker. Even through the hollow intones of the buzzer, she sounded skeptical. "I don't know any Kurtzman..."

"This is about her family. I need to speak with her immediately."

There was silence and Kurtzman closed his eyes as he swayed, leaning against the side of the building. He didn't know if she believed him and the last thing that he needed was for other family to become over protective of the girl tonight. True it was late and he was technically a stranger, but when April heard his name, she would instantly fly into action. He was sure of that. It would just take a few minutes before April's aunt alerted her of Kurtzman's presence. She wouldn't take this long without having done so.

Unless she had not at all believed him and walked away from the buzzer in hopes that the unknown man requesting her would disappear.

That had Kurtzman a bit worried.

"I'm sorry," the buzzer stated, coming alive once more. "You will have to come back at a decent hour, when I can understand how the two of you know each other. I'm not inviting anyone into my apartment until the sun is up or unless it's someone I personally hired."

He stood outside, waiting to see if April would make it past her aunt to race down the stairs.

When she hadn't after a few more minutes ticked by, Kurtzman sighed and allowed his forehead the rest against the cool brick of the building. So that was it then. There was no one left but fate to determine the outcome of the turtles. He wouldn't even know how to get in touch with Bishop after this either to work that angle. It was all over and he didn't even have a chance to rectify this situation, to fix this terrible blunder of judgement.

Perhaps April would call him. She would know how to get in touch with the turtles. The question was, would she call him? Had he given her his number to call him? He couldn't remember correctly. He couldn't remember if he had given the redhead his business card at all. The minor mishap might be costly since he remained fairly unlisted over the internet. He was more or less an old fashion sort, even if that meant he only got the left over cases.

Something thunked from over head, breaking through his thoughts.

Kurtzman glanced up to see the figure of a girl clumsily pulling herself down the side of the building with whatever it was she was holding onto. Then the girl slipped, dropping the rope before catching herself and sliding down it at an alarming speed.

Her bottom met concrete before Kurtzman had time to come to her aid.

"I do it all the time, _Red_. Works like a charm no matter how high up you are," she grumbled to herself in sarcasm, before throwing the rope at the building in disdain. Then she glanced up noticing that Kurtzman was offering her a hand. Taking it, she smiled shyly at someone having heard her short speech and muttered, "Thanks."

"Miss O'Neil," Kurtzman couldn't help but sound serious despite the ridiculous display. "The turtles are in danger."

The smile on April's face immediately vanished into a frown. Her entire reflection portrayed that she knew enough to not need to ask questions about Kurtzman's visitation. She understood that the situation must have been dire for the man to come knocking on her doorstep. "You can tell me on the way," was all she said before the two ran towards the car.

* * *

April held the T-phone up to her ear, biting the end of her thumb as she waited for someone to pick up. The endless ringing filled her ears, making the corners of her lips turn further and further downwards. Every loud 'rrr-ing' became longer and longer with every growing second. It was almost agonizing how long the spacing between them carried out. One minute or so, felt like three hours, especially since no one was picking up.

She had already tried Donny, her first choice; Leo, her second….Now it was Casey's turn.

Suddenly, the ringing stopped.

"Red!" Never in her life had she been happier to hear Casey Jones call her by that silly nickname.

"Oh, thank God, Jones! Nobody is answering their T-phones in the sewers and I don't know what to do." She couldn't withhold the panic in her voice. She hadn't exactly waited for Kurtzman to explain everything out to her before she went on a frenzy of finding her adopted family.

"Relax, Red. I'm sure that everyone is fine. You're just overreacting-"

"I'm serious, Casey, Kurtzman is with me right now and he's saying that the guys are in danger!"

"Kurtzman?"

Suddenly, there was a wrestling on the phone before a new voice hopped on. "What's going on, April?"

"Raph? I thought you- Nevermind, just, Kurtzman said that this guy, Bishop was looking through the maps of the sewers or something. He's after you guys."

April bit her lip, hoping that she could get at least one of the two to understand. Kurtzman was already driving down the street towards where April had requested she be dropped off at. If anything, she was going to go down there to make sure that everyone was alright.

"Bishop? You mean, the mean guy with the suit? We ditched him earlier."

April couldn't bite back her frustration. "Raph, how am I suppose to know what he looks like? He's some government guy and he's hot on your trail whether or not you ditched him. Kurtzman is sure of it. He's been looking for mutagen and Kraang obsessively. Kurtzman doesn't know exactly what he wants, but he's someone not to mess with."

"We lost him. He didn't find our home...Donny made the lair undetectable."

"What if he figured it out anyways?" April frantically questioned. Then she pleaded for the other to understand her point of view, "Raph, I don't know about you, but I've got a really bad feeling about this. I mean a really, really bad feeling."

At first came silence. It was quickly replaced with Raph's voice, no longer argumentative nor hesitant about the matter any longer. "We're on our way."

Relief flooded April's being. "Casey can show you our usual meet up point. See you there."

April hung up the phone and fell back into her seat. Despite the solace of having Raph take her seriously, she felt queazy and sick in her stomach. The idea that the last of her family being hauled off by the government did not bode well with her. She needed to be there and much faster than the speed they were traveling now.

"They're coming?" Kurtzman asked from his seat.

April sighed. "Yeah."

Then she groaned aloud. "How did this Bishop guy even know about them? He wouldn't hurt them…Would he?"

Kurtzman inhaled, taking his time to answer her question. "I didn't tell you about the specifics of my case."

The confession made April twist in her seat. She sent the other man an uncertain look, one that she might deal to a stranger than an ally. It wasn't until that point did she realize that she'd never really gone into detail about anything other than Kraang history and her connection to them. The most important piece of the puzzle, was how did Kurtzman know what he knew. That all seemed so irrelevant by the time she had learned her own history as a Kraang experiment. The question was, why had that become irrelevant?

Kurtzman seemed unaware of April's internal struggle. "I was assigned to find the missing scientists as I said. They were random scientists, no link or connection. Just a hodgepodge of people indirectly related to one another and none of it made much sense to me. Then I stumbled upon a fight one night outside the apartment. It wasn't a big fight, but it included your friends and a few black clad ninjas. I got lucky. Snapped a picture. Got interested.

"Wasn't long before I was looking through feeds, satellite images and everything trying to figure out what I had actually witnessed. But I guess my erratic work attracted this off the charts government branch that dealt with special scenarios such as these. That's when I got a phone call from Special Agent Bishop. He and I had a long conversation where he revealed to me who the Kraang were and what they were doing here. I did some research and found that he is legitimate, that he was apart of a classified sector. He didn't give me his own connection to the case, but believe me, I've tried to figure the whole thing out myself…Then I did something, that I now regret. I gave him information about you and your family. He already knew about them. He followed…some alligator mutant, I believe, for a while. He wanted more information. When the alligator went missing, he started coming more and more to me. He had all the names though, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo. He knew their fighting styles, their habits…He just knew. And then he vanished for a few weeks and I thought, that was that."

April stared wide eyed at the man, unable to help feeling betrayed. "You didn't mention any of this to us."

Kurtzmans' face fell. "I honestly didn't know how to bring it up. I was far too busy concerned with making sure that you knew about the Kraang. I didn't think about Bishop."

April sat quietly at that point. She didn't quite know how to feel, but Master Splinter had given her advice to make sure that her head was unobstructed by quick or unwarranted judgement so that she could think logically about her next decision. Any one of those decisions could be the balance between life and death in many scenarios. She knew that the only way to clear her thoughts was to concentrate on what needed to be done rather than resorting to anger at a man she once thought a friend.

She remained still, trying to do as Master Splinter had instructed her. But it was not working as well, even as they came to the spot April had told Kurtzman to drive to. Had she been wrong to give him even that much information?

"Pull over here," April stated abruptly, seeing two shadows looming in the distance.

It had Kurtzman skidding his car to a halt.

For one brief moment, her stomach rolled at the thought that this mysterious Bishop had somehow found her and was going to haul her off too. The figures were coming down a ladder, by the time April had collected herself mentally. She was behaving in the exact opposite manner than Master Splinter had warned her about. She couldn't let Kurtzman's conversation of this omniscient being take reign in her thoughts. She had to focus.

The figures morphed from her fears into Raph and Casey.

April began to hop out of the car, but was stopped by a hand grasping her arm. She was about to turn and snap at the older man to release her, but caught sight of his saddened face. She withdrew her sharpened tongue and instead listened, unsure if she even felt safe at the moment being within the same vicinity as Kurtzman. A card was forced into her hand.

"April, I'm going to stay right here. If you run into any trouble, I will make sure to be there as soon as you call me."

April nodded, thankful for the release of her arm. Her mind was battling the thoughts of distrust that seeped to the surface, even though Kurtzman had always attempted to be genuine and upfront about everything. However, the idea that someone else knew, that he had talked to that someone else in the United States government about the turtles... it was a terrifying thought. This could exploit the small family she had grown to love. The public would destroy them and scientists would tear their remains apart, just like April's dissection lab in biology.

The thought made April reel backwards and out of the car as her eyes no longer viewed Kurtzman as 'friend.' In her palm, she crumbled the card and slipped it into her pocket as if it were nothing more than a receipt for a soda-pop. Useless, featherlight baggage that could be stuffed away until laundry day and then thrown out.

She sped over to Casey and Raph.

Without waiting for either of them to reach her, she plucked the man hole cover off with strength she didn't even knew she had. Then flipping in Casey and Raph's direction, azure eyes lit with apprehension, she exclaimed, "We need to get down there! Now!"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Just to warn you all, the rated teen comes into play here. There will be violence and blood in this chapter.

This came out a bit longer and more detailed than I originally anticipated. This chapter was actually on of the first scenes (along with a later one) that I scribbled out in script which became this story. Strange how some minds work...

**One Disaster too Many**

**Chapter 5**

Master Splinter expertly evaded the darts, blocking his three sons before charging at Bishop with a new found fury that only a parent could hold. It didn't take long before Leo, Don, and Mikey had leapt into action taking on the other men that came from the shadows and barreled across the room at them.

Don caught one upside the head with his bo. Mikey whacked the other two in the shins.

The three men tumbled to the ground, only to pop back up, swinging their fist in Don's and Mikey's general direction. One of the men pushed forward, a growl on his lips as he flew at Donatello.

Mikey watched the other two apprehensively, expecting them to fly at him any second. But for whatever reason, they seemed to be stuck in place. Peering between them, Mikey saw a flash of green and blue, understanding why they were suddenly immobile and loved every minute of their flailing.

He took his hand and brought it up to his face, placing his thumb on his nose. He wiggled his fingers back and forth in a taunting and childish manner. His tongue slipped out as he made a baritone, "Nehhhh..." sound.

The men were no longer giving him much attention though. They were more focused on why they weren't traveling forward.

The answer came all too soon as Leo got a firm, tight grip on the two black jackets before flipping the agents head over heels. Then, just to disorient them more, Leo slammed their skulls together.

"Woohoo!" cheered Mikey, watching in reverence as his older brother flipped back around, waiting for the two men to shake off their new migraines. Leo's katanas were back out within a blink of the eye.

Joining the fray, Mikey couldn't help but nudge his eldest brother's shoulder in excitement. "We are so busting shell tonight."

Leo spun towards his youngest sibling with a slight smile, but was interrupted.

"A little less talk and more help," cried Don, defending himself with his staff.

One kick sent him into the wall, his bo snapped in half. Don groaned, if not from the collision, then from his weapon taking a dive. Don studied his useless weapon with disdain. He was tired of this happening. He had made the extra effort in the dojo to practice on this specifically. Before these guys, Don seemed to be doing wonderful and his improvement skyrocketed. Now here he was back to square one and rendered weaponless in another fight.

The dismay in his momentary glance downwards almost cost Don a massive headache of his own as a foot slammed into the wall right next to his head. Luckily, he caught it last second and shifted himself just enough for a miss.

Taking advantage of the situation, Don swept the foot into his grasp and spun it sideways, causing the man to jerk along with the movement. Gravity did the rest. However, that didn't stop the man from lashing out with his other foot as he landed. Don hadn't even seen that one coming.

Likewise, Leo blocked a punch to the face, but completely missed the knee to his gut, taking a hard hit himself. Heaving in a deep breath, Leo blocked most of the pain by sheer willpower. The man above him chuckled a bit before Leo took the heel of his hand and hit the man square in the solar plexus. All the wind was knocked from him instantly. The chuckling of victory the man had exuded became choking coughs instantly. It was Leo's turn to smirk.

Mikey, meanwhile, had lost one of his weapons. When he dove to retrieve it, his opponent sent it skidding once again across the floor. Mikey watched as the two handles flipped repeatedly over each other, spinning one another towards the far side of the room. Unfortunately, the little display caught Mikey's attention a bit too long.

Mikey soon found himself skidding across the floor in a similar manner. But instead of flailing as his weapon had done, Mikey retracted as far into his shell as he could go and added to the momentum, until the very last second where his feet sprang out. Then grabbing his the other half of his discarded weapon, Mikey kick-started himself against the wall.

The man watched in an awed fascination.

Mikey smiled widely, knowing that he'd caught his opponent off guard. Then yanking back his kasagami in striking position, Mikey allowed his body to fall directly into the man's path. He already could see those cartoony stars from his comic books forming around the other's head.

The other didn't realize his own situation until it was too late to move.

Mikey's attacker went skidding backwards, between Don and his assailant, before falling out of view.

Don grunted, waving one end of the broken staff, quickly making work with it, and swinging it like a bat. The stick came reigning down against his own opponent's shoulder, a loud 'thwack' and grunt filled Don's hearing. The desired effect provided a few more seconds for Don to move outside of the intruder's grasp and enough time to scan his position relative to his family. Leo and Mikey were behind him now, and their sensei had taken up the center of the room.

Master Splinter dashed and darted the swinging flurry of fists and kicks in his direction. He used speed and agility to throw the leader as off guard as he could. It was unfortunate that Bishop didn't seem to be thrown off all that easily. It was as if every move Splinter made, Bishop was nearly two steps ahead of him and allowing himself to be driven backwards while honing in on Master Splinter's skills.

Splinter's ears folded back and his whiskers twitched as he came to his conclusion.

Bishop was learning from this exchange rather than trying to defeat him.

Out of his periphery, the agent fighting Leo collapsed. Leo was now standing over the slumped figure with a katana pointed at him, warning the man not to bother getting up if he regained consciousness too quickly.

Master Splinter had only a second to swell with pride at his son's success before Bishop finally upped his game and slammed the rat backwards.

Those dark eyes then set on Leonardo, having followed Splinter's quick glance. Leo had only seconds to ready his swords as Bishop approached.

"You shouldn't be playing with those," lectured Bishop. He sounded almost amused despite his words. "Unless you know how to use them."

Leo's grip tightened and he ground his teeth in anticipation. He wasn't about to allow Bishop to get the best of him. He needed to keep his calm just as he had always been trained to do. He needed to follow his enemies slightest movement to figure out when and how Bishop planned to strike.

Inhaling once, Leo situated himself, katanas extended. Bishop made no movement to fight with the exception of pacing forwards. With such an opportunity left open, Leo decided that he would have to be the first aggressor before Bishop cornered him. His fists tightened around his weapons before charging forward, both sharp, pointed ends of the katana aimed straight for Bishop's neck.

One second Bishop was there and the next he wasn't.

Leo could only watch, mid-motion as the man tilted his head between the katanas, hand moving to grab the upper lip of Leo's plastron. The katanas completely missed their target, and Leo was thrown to the ground, tumbling a bit as he attempted to roll straight back into position.

His dizziness fade as he propped himself back up. He wasn't going to let this guy beat him.

Master Splinter watched groggily for a minute, more surprised that he had been knocked off his feet than any actual pain. He noticed the battle between Leo and Bishop, before darting forward and freeing his other two son's of their assailants through whipping his tail at their feet. Both men turned to him instantly, allowing for his youngest sons the ability to aid elsewhere.

"Help your brother," ordered Splinter, now busy with his own battle. His thoughts focused on taking out the last of the men so there would be no surprises when he got back to Bishop once again. That would surely be the best path to finishing this madness.

Master Splinter didn't have time to glance backwards to see what was going on behind him, but his ears twitched when they heard the dull thud of a shoe making contact with someone's shell.

Another blow to the stomach and Leo could barely stand. It wasn't until a foot to the head that tipped the scales indefinitely, with Leo on the losing side of this battle. He barely heard the battle cry of his youngest brother as he warbled a moment longer.

Leo felt his legs collapse under him, just at the same time his face became filled with the backside of Michelangelo's shell. The cra-thunk was an unpleasant experience, knocking Leo's sight out of commotion temporarily when his head made contact with the wall.

Mikey likewise, was groaning, pain shooting up across his limbs as he reached for the one weapon he had in view. It didn't matter. Bishop was on him in seconds, sending the kusarigama flying into the walls. Then the agent's foot stamped down on top of Mikey's hand. The most uncaring look crossed the man's stoic face as he pressed down hard.

A pop, follow by a crack, threw a scream from Mikey's throat as he squirmed, trying to free himself from his cruel hold. A flaring pain etched from the pressure of the implanted heel. It didn't help that when Leo hopped up and managed to move Bishop off. As soon as the pressure deteriorated, Mikey yelp, seeing white. He couldn't bring himself back into reality for several seconds, his mind screeching at the intensity of the abuse.

Leo had gotten a surprise attack in, the only thing that had been on his side. After that, he was outmaneuvered again, then thrown into the same wall. His vision went dark before what felt flames creep along his shoulder blade in a white hot, blinding pain as something tore directly through his shell, right into his shoulder, out the other side and into the wall. He was quite literally pinned by the time the hilt of his katana clanked with his shell. After a few disorienting seconds, Leo was able to focus the agony enough to see what had happened. Judging by the katana embedded in him and the wall, he wasn't about to be leaving this spot anytime soon. Leo estimated, mind fuzzy, that it would be ten times worse trying to get the katana out of him.

"Leo!" Donny called, now making his way over and analyzing the situation without even paying Bishop any attention. Don's blindness had been a mistake. Leo mashed his teeth together knowing that Don should be more concerned about Bishop than his position, but things were slowing down in Leo's vision into almost a sequence of hazy imaging. One second his brother was in one location, then suddenly he was half a meter closer.

There was a nasty slap of metal against Don's plastron and Leo's second youngest brother fell from view. Another blinding pain shot through Leo's uninjured shoulder as he realized, to his complete dismay, that he had two katanas for Bishop to wield.

What was worse was that every time he attempted to displace his pain, Bishop's mock haunted him about Leo's incorrect use of his own weapons. Don disappearing from view didn't make it back to his consciousness. Little did he know that his brother was now in a similar agonizing position of defenselessness as he was currently in.

Don was gaping in distress, forcing back the pain of the open wound to his chest plates. He hobbled a few steps backwards, falling away from Bishop. Never had he come across an enemy who didn't bother taking time to actually fight before striking his enemy down. Don felt blood seep out of the wound and pressed his hands instantly to it, self protection evident. His mind was already filing through what it might take to mend this situation, if and only if they managed to drive this force from hell out of their lair.

Those odds seemed low.

His eyes spun towards Leo, then Mikey, and finally towards Master Splinter. He and his brothers were all injured. They couldn't fight this man without Master Splinter's aid any longer.

Don remained paralyzed as he stared towards his father, trying to snap himself out of his trance and actually do something instead of thinking. He didn't realize that he had shouted out Master Splinter's name until his father had stopped fighting, the last man crumbling to the floor.

Master Splinter had taken down the final nameless agent, his eyes spun towards his three sons having taken on Bishop by themselves. He instantly regretted not pursuing so on his own when he saw what had happened to them.

Don nearly cringed back as he watched his father's face contort from anger to horror, back to a dreadful fury that seemed all consuming. Splinter stepped forward with a murderous glare in his eyes, seeing only Bishop in front of him. "You will pay for what you have done."

"The wounds are minor. They should heal quickly," commented Bishop without remorse. He didn't even flinch at the heated tone directed his way. "I need these turtles and yourself in prime shape if I am able to use you all for furthering our knowledge about the alien threat."

"You will not be 'using' anyone here, Agent Bishop," spat Splinter before running directly at the man. No time was wasted to get straight to the fight. Bishop darted clear of Splinter's stampeding form, only to have Splinter's tail swipe at him.

Ducking, the man eluded Splinter yet again.

* * *

Don was able to pull himself out of his trance, sending Mikey a worried glance as the youngest watched in terror as the fight unfolded.

A groan of pain made Don realize that they were still injured and losing precious time their sensei was providing for them to patch up a bit.

"Mikey!" snapped Donny, succeeding to pull his brother's attention. Mikey peeked over, his eyes widening as he saw blood slipping over Don's fingers and down his chest.

"We need to unpin, Leo."

Mikey's eyes traveled from the crimson-red liquid oozing out the broken plates of Don's plastron to where his eldest brother was stuck on the wall. Panic started to take over within milliseconds, but Mikey managed it down as he realized that shouting hysterically wasn't going to solve the situation. Donny was counting on him to hold it together.

Hand gripped tightly on the handle of one katana, Don placed a foot on the wall. "Mikey start unwrapping your wrist bandages now."

Mikey did what he was told, clumsily thumbing along the edges of fabric, He yanked and tugged, not caring if his hand looked swollen and throbbed greatly. He didn't even care that it was practically useless, as long as he pulled the material free and got it to Don on time.

Don ground his teeth. He knew the faster he did this, the less discomfort his oldest brother would have to face. He didn't know if he should alert Leo, or just take his chances and pull. Without time to really think this over, Donatello allowed his cold, analytical doctor side to take over and deal with the situation. His hands tightened around the handle before he yanked back on the katana hard.

A shattering scream filled the lair.

Master Splinter turned for one second, concern lighting his eyes, and his error had been pricey.

A foot met his face and threw him directly into the wall behind him, dazing him after the repeated attacks on his body. The rat crumbled slightly, arms still raised in case his enemy struck while he was gathering himself.

Bishop analyzed the room. He watched Don aid his eldest brother, bandaging the now free arm immediately, hoping to clot the blood flow.

This act of understanding and intelligence intrigued Bishop to no end. He had witnessed the mutant alligator he had been tracking prior to the turtles, doing human-like stunts. But this display was far more...involved and caring. He hadn't seen the effects of the mutagen, produced by the Kraang, reacting to anything without converting it into a more than aggressive and assertive mind frame.

He allowed the procedure to take place, curiosity unable to subside.

Light footsteps threw Bishop from his temporary inquisitiveness back into the fray with the injured humanoid rat. Bishop almost missed his narrow window of avoiding a total collision with a fist. He, however, was clipped by it, cheek felling the sting as the hand caught the top of his bone. It wasn't hard enough to leave damage, but it was alarmingly close.

Bishop had to acknowledge that he actually had to try when facing the father of the four turtles. Splinter seemed highly aware of how to fight and was not holding anything back.

Had Bishop not been at prime shape, he might have been concerned of this being more of an equal challenge. It was good that he invested so many years into making sure that his skill was unmatched. So, many, many years…

"You will leave my sons alone!" hissed Splinter in such intensity that Bishop could feel the threat behind those words.

Bishop stepped back like the game they had played when testing Splinter, studying him. He folded his hands behind his back in a show of arrogance.

"You're outmatched," Bishop replied, completely calm both on the exterior and the interior. "I would surrender now before anymore harm comes upon anyone. It will be expensive as it is to put everyone back together again. I would hope that you and I can at least come to that understanding."

Splinter ears flew back. The authoritative tone Bishop took was not welcomed. Splinter growled, hand rising for another round.

The action caused one neatly trimmed brow to rise, hovering over the sleek glasses that encased two burning, black coals. "Very well then," stated Bishop, smirking at the dogmatism of this lone mutant rat. He was going to make sure that taking down the father was going to be a pleasurable experience, though not an entirely damaging one.

Bishop's attention remained focused, his new goal printed across his mind. His ears picked up the noise behind him. But his mind was too invested on the rat in front of him. He purposely chose to discard the presence of three figures making their way through the turnstiles into the background as Splinter resumed the fight.

* * *

"Mikey, the other bandage, hurry!"

Mikey couldn't make his other hand work no matter how much he tried. Frustrated tears built in his eyes as he force his hand to move and found only pain associated with it. "Don, I can't! I can't! My hand!"

Don was busy and unfortunately, his impatience was showing. "Mikey, just do what I said! Or Leo's going to bleed too heavily!"

"It won't come off!" Mikey persisted. He fumbled more and more, panic that had remained patiently on the outskirt of his thoughts began to seep in faster and faster. He imagined every worse scenario that he could come up with and found himself completely useless every time.

Hanging onto the edge of sanity, Mikey began to recognize a third voice amongst them. Suddenly and inexplicably, April was there, and like a blessing in disguise, she had managed to rip her yellow overshirt into a long strip, enough for Don to use. She was babbling something to Don and he responded back in a hurried manner. That left Mikey breathing easy for the time being. He was too overwhelmed with feeling thankful to really know what was being said.

Then Don grabbed the hilt of the other katana.

* * *

Raph and Casey spun towards where April had gone when they heard a scream. Splinter covered them in the foreground. Neither knew that they were saved the painful lesson Splinter had learned only minutes prior to their appearance.

The two readied themselves after seeing that Donny and April seemed to be taking care of thing behind them., Then for the second time that night the two rebel teens dove at Bishop. Each their own fury at seeing the mess their family and friends had become.

April kept tearing at her yellow over-shirt, despite having given Donny enough to address the other wound on Leo. The ribbons of fabric were being ripped, revealing the simple black long sleeve shirt underneath. Her hands would not stop moving in circles around her body, mind following a similar revolution. A few tears eventually broke free and began their trek down her face as April went. No one was paying her much attention though; not until Don had finished with the first task at hand.

By the time he had even turned towards April, she was a frantic, apologizing mess.

"April, April," Don chided softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. He hadn't really seen her like this before. Of course, he had seen her upset, depressed even. He knew what she was like when the worst happened, but at the moment, April looked almost borderline hysteria. Don was at a complete loss of what to do besides try to be comforting and hope that it would calm the girl down.

The hand on her shoulder slowly evaporated April's pacing. Her own hands slowed, leaving a dangling piece of fabric against her side. She moved her hands upwards, fingers brushing away evidence of upset from her cheeks as her hands quickly spread upwards.

"I can't believe this is happening." April rubbed ruthlessly at her eyes. A semblance of control flooded back over her before she began tugging at her shirt once more.

Don blushed slightly unsure of what to make of April's display. He might have stopped her but he was still holding onto his brother. He didn't quite know what to do if she unraveled the whole shirt in front of him like she was doing. "April, we have to get Leo out. What are you-?"

"You're bleeding everywhere Don!" April screamed, taking the time to throw a heated look Don's direction. He tone even came out angered, as if she were personally offended by Donatello's absence of awareness for his own wounds. Mikey, who had been aiding Don, turned towards his purple masked brother. His eyes fell on the red river that kept pouring out of Don's chest.

Don inhaled before staring down to see what he was missing and instantly wished he didn't.

* * *

Raph took the left side of Master Splinter, shaking off the recent kick to the skull with ease. It was Splinter that actually took the brunt of attack. Raph only caught the tail end of the swinging leg.

A growl fell from his lips as he gripped his sai so tight his knuckles went pale. "I'm gonna kill you!"

Casey swung at the same moment that Raph did. But neither could anticipate Bishop's sudden maneuver, ducking their blows. It resulted in Raph being whacked with the side of a hokey stick and Casey with a sai scratching his left arm.

The two jumped back after a stunned second, each holding their wounds.

Bishop used that moment to propel himself forward, knocking the teens off their feet and out of the way, before Splinter was up again.

"You don't go down easy," observed Bishop. There was a bit of irritation in his tone as he pushed Splinter back a few steps with another punch. Bishop wasn't toying around as he had when he first started the battle. The fresh arrivals alongside the mutated rat were slowly drawing out a need to actually begin fighting.

Knowing that they were losing the battle, Splinter scanned the room to see if everyone was present. His eyes narrowed in on Donatello being patched up by April and Mikey still holding onto a bandaged, groggy Leo. It was going to be next to impossible to escape with two of his sons injured as they were. He had to think of something fast, anything really, to back this one man away. If he could do that, then they might have a chance to slip out.

All he could think of was a diversion. His eyes slipped on where Raphael was getting ready once again. His mind came up with a plan to send Raphael and Cassey away, as far away as they could go with the injured party and April. Master Splinter would divert Bishop from following.

Splinter swung his tail, slamming into a charging Raph before the turtle could set his sights on Bishop once again. Master Splinter was already in motion, makeshift plan formulating in his head as he blocked a swing from Bishop, just barely. His tail was still warding Raph from the fight.

Gobsmacked by his father's actions, Raph glanced at his sensei, who had placed himself precariously in front of Bishop. He stood there watching for a moment as the fight ensued before growling under his breath. Splinter spared a sidelong glance as a warning and Raph knew not to interfere. And to do more than that, step away from the fight completely.

Normally Raph would listen, but this night was anything but normal.

Raph didn't bother to peer up at his father, trying to jump back into the brawl only to be blocked once again. He didn't want to think about what might happen if he yanked from a battle that was obviously not in his father's favor. He didn't want to think of the consequences of losing this particular fight and what it would mean for them.

"Raphael," snapped Splinter, unable to separate his rage towards Bishop from how harsh he sounded to his second eldest son. However, it did halt Raph in his tracks. Raph hesitated, sais twitching in hand when his name was barked out. His eyes widened at his father as Splinter yelled out a, "Go!"

Wanting nothing more than to argue with Master Splinter, Raph couldn't help but start off with an imploring, "I'm not leaving-"

"Go!"

The tone was twice as fierce as it had been previously. It nearly incapacitated Raphael for a moment, mind racing to place why Master Splinter sounded nothing like his usual self.

Raph shuffled backwards for a moment. A pang of helplessness stung his heart. Guilt at not having come home sooner began burning at the lining deep in his stomach. The tone had only made these things weigh on Raph more.

He watched as Bishop crashed down into Master Splinter once more before stepping backwards again. He was causing Master Splinter to divide his attention by standing there and arguing. Raph wasn't going to be able to rectify the situation until Casey and he got everyone far enough away. Then Raph would be able to come back and really aid his father in fighting off this new enemy.

"Casey!" Raph called now hurrying over to where April was aiding Mikey in propping a semi-lucid Leo onto his feet. Casey was there in seconds helping the group, removing the burden from April and freeing her to fuss over Donatello. At least Don's adrenaline was keeping him moving, though it did nothing beneficial for the wound across his plates.

Raph pulled Mikey away, not realizing that he had grabbed a very delicate and shattered hand from his youngest brother. Mikey whimpered, snagging it back with lightening speed. Raph peered down. He caught sight of the inflated hand, red radiating along the ridges. Raph only felt more burning in his core, choosing not to say anything before encouraging Leo to move forward with Casey. The rest of the group followed.

"Don your bleeding more," April whispered, noticing the signs of pain beginning to reflect in Don's eyes. The shock of the injury, and the adrenaline of battle was wearing down as they moved away. Don kept a steady hand on his chest, as if that would slow anything down.

"I'm fine," reassured Donatello, though he was beginning to feel woozy from it all. He didn't need to pass out on his team in the midst of an escape. He didn't need to become a burden. He already knew that of the four, he was the weakest ninja, the one that had the most trouble hopping through the proverbial hoops in training. He didn't need to relapse into that old position of last place again.

He turned an eye towards Mikey, who was cradling his bad, swollen hand and winced. He hadn't even thought of mending Mikey yet or looking to see how much damage had been inflicted on the youngest in the first place. Back inside the lair, he had just recognized the fact that Mikey was up and moving around and Leo was not.

He made a mental note to inspect Mikey soon. There was no telling the extent of the injury, but it looked painful to put it in the least. Then he spun his attention towards Leo, who was just starting to pull himself out of his own shock. The black coat that Casey tended to adorn himself with, was draped over Leo's shoulders awkwardly like a sling. An idea that Don approved of. He was glad that someone else had thought of it, so as not to cause any more tearing along the shoulders. Don would need to treat Leo too after clearing the mess from his mind and thoroughly inspecting those wounds as well.

Then peaking down at April as she continued to fuss over his own situation, Don made a note that he would have to find time to patch himself up afterwards. As long as he didn't look down again, he could keep pressing onward.

His eyes met Raphael's as his older red-masked brother kept peeking at the crowd, almost paranoid that they were being followed.

As the entrance to their home faded from view, Raph swung back around for the umpteenth time to check on the crew as they hurried forwards. With an arm wrapped around his older brother and Casey on the opposite side, he needn't worry about those two. April and Mikey seemed to be glued to Don's side. April kept unconsciously reaching out at the bloodied spot across Don's plastron as if she needed to fix it. Mikey seemed content to just cling to his brother's side. His own hand swelled enough that it was obviously bruised to anyone looking.

Raph's eyes peeked at the wall that concealed their childhood home, only to find blackness behind them.

Everyone was here, except Master Splinter.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Woohoo! Thank you reviewers! I feel so encouraged...no idea!

**One Disaster too Many**  
**Chapter 6**

The small band moved along the tunnels, no one really talking to one another. The swishing of water and the pings of dripping, pungent liquid filled the atmosphere. It only made the situation more cold and bleak, leaving everyone isolated dangerous in their own minds. They were all too concentrated on getting away and the pain of what they left behind than pulling each other from their ruminations. Even Leo, leading the team, hadn't spoken a word of what they were suppose to do or where they were suppose to be heading. Instead he managed to tug his hurt arms into the jacket all the more, thankful that he had something to keep them from dangling in pain. Casey's small sacrifice was saving him from falling back into the enveloping misery thanks to the slices along his shoulders. It was the other half of the misery that he was currently dealing with while trying to keep some sort of leadership semblance about him.

Leo attempted not to sway as he walked, determined not to show a sign of least they were still following him, all his brothers and his two friends. That was something to be thankful for. Leo just needed to concentrate on that instead of how much he'd failed his father otherwise. He could mope about that later, in the comfort of his own mind, when everyone else was safe.

He glanced back and forth at the crowd, all sullen faces, before his eyes narrowed in on Raph. His expression seemed odd, nearly furious and his pace was slowing down alarmingly fast, until almost everyone walked by him.

Raphael stopped completely. Mind on replay, he had somehow convinced himself to work up enough anger to be bold in his decisions. His free hand balled into a fist while he conjured up a private conversation with his older brother, justifying himself. He already felt eyes on him, knowing that Leo was judging his past actions, weighing them against him. It was just a trip to the surface. A single, solitary trip that meant no harm in the first place. He didn't need to be glared at, his stomach was already a gyrating bowl of mixed acids seeping into his subconscious. The inner voices were accusing him of not being there when his family had needed him.

It only increased the revolution in his gut when every now and then, he would watch Casey glancing over their shoulder, keeping a head count. Donny and April had probably done the same thing from behind. Raph already knew that they were down by one still. Master Splinter hadn't emerged.

Their father had been worried about this. Raph couldn't help but allow the thought to cross his mind as he stared straight ahead. Master Splinter had warned them, over and over repeatedly. _Stick to the shadows and do not allow yourselves to be seen_. It was one of his mantras. The carefully put repetition of rules, regulation and safety all bundled neatly into one sentence.

He was only partially surprised that Leo wasn't down his throat about the whole thing as soon as his older brother gained enough consciousness to walk on his own. He could practically feel the accusation dripping down his shoulders though, every aching step of the way. The voice that suspiciously like Leo was becoming louder this time, more denouncing. '_You shouldn't have gone to the surface, Raph. This is the exact reason why you're not in charge. You can't even handle your own messes._'

The knuckles on Raph's fist turned white as the imaginary Leo continued to rile him into a fight. His brow furrowed in concentration. He was volleying what to do about this situation, how to get their father back and mend everything. But that voice kept tweaking on his last nerve, plucking on it like a string on the guitar.

Denial was the first blockade to the disparaging voice that arose in Raph's mind. This couldn't completely be his fault. It wasn't as if he'd planned this. It was just unfortunate circumstances. If Leo was looking for someone to blame, then he should at least consider the purple dragon's role in all this. After all, Bishop had been pulling information from the local gang this entire time.  


Raph knew it was ludicrous to assume Leo knew that much about this. He wasn't the one up on top of the roofs, peeking into the alleyway when Bishop's men had been there. No, that had been Casey and himself. They were, quite possibly, the only two that knew information like that.

Slowly a cramp formed where Raph could swear he felt the lining of his stomach burn away. Soon he'd be nothing but a walking bag of nerves and cindering anger. If the voice in his head didn't cool it, then it would have to contend with Raph's fury.

His eyes sought Casey who was trudging along silently. A bubbling of, 'You should have returned sooner' came to in full view.

Casey had been all smiles, even after the fact. Raph had known, his gut telling him that something was wrong and somehow been persuaded to otherwise continue crime hunting until April had called in a frantic mess. As soon as he heard the intones in her voice, he knew. But Casey didn't understand what he and his brother's faced. He was breed from the more plush life of the world above ground where confrontations could be sorted out eventually and those that couldn't were far and few between. Raph wasn't about to dump something like this on his best friend's head for his own peace of mind. He'd excuse Casey all the way to the end.

But that still didn't mean that this fell completely on Raph's shoulders either.

There was a niggling in the back of his mind that warned him not to try to cast blame everywhere else. It wasn't going to settle anything. It wasn't going to accomplish what was needed. What he had to do now was convert that voice into a source of igniting energy, making himself motivated to do something. If anyone wanted to point fingers then they should be looking at the source of their misery in all his suit and tie glory; Bishop.

He was the one that had turned the situation upside down for them. He was the one that had separated them from Master Splinter and beat Raph's brothers senseless. Couldn't they even see that everything fell back on that man and not him?

Either way, Raph was determined to fix the situation. If not for himself, then for his family. This guy didn't get away with messing with them without a little redemption on Raph's part. Raph was going to bring some justice in the way he'd grown most fond of, with his fists. He would rectify everything with a few well placed jabs into Bishop's gut. After all, Bishop was only human, despite the abnormality of his speed, skill and strength.

"Where are we going to go?" questioned Mikey out of the blue, tugging on Casey's jacket around Leo's arms.

For whatever reason, that innocent inquiry was the last straw in Raph's delicate thought process. The question had nothing to do with Raph, and yet, by the time it had reached Raph's ears, it had everything to do with him. The abused thread of nerves had snapped. The final string severed in a brilliant display of red. It was the one that made Raph growl loudly, eyes shifting from his older brother before he slung around and grabbed Mikey by the arms. He wanted to shake his youngest brother for all he was worth, bring back up the fact that they had been chased out of the lair, bring back the fact that Raph hadn't been there to tip the fight before it had been too late. He wanted to hear it from them instead of bottling it all up inside. He couldn't deal with this if they kept sending him glances of disapproval. He didn't do well with being subliminally messaged by posture and cruel looks and seemingly harmless questions. He did well with their blunt and painful truth. It was how Raph worked. He dealt it out and he could take it in.

"Raph!" Leo snapped.

"Stop, Raph!" Don shouted, jutting an arm between the two and slamming it harshly down on Raph's own. It hurt, but not enough for Raph to relinquish his hold. It did stop him though as he stared straight into Mikey's frightened eyes. Nobody moved for what seemed like eternity.

"Raph?" April questioned a bit more tentative. She was slowly approaching.

Raph only stared back at Mikey. He wasn't even bothered by April's careful movements.

There was only fright in those sky blue eyes, and then sadness. That was it, a petrified, upset fifteen year old that was completely lost. No happy smily face. No broad grin as if Mikey were up to something. But there was also no condemnation to be found anywhere, no matter how hard Raph searched for it. There was no blaming Raph for everything...for anything. Not even an inkling of it hidden in the backdrop.

Finally, Raph pushed Mikey's arms from his body, the flames of guilt weighing a bit more heavily. Leo wasn't going to do anything, couldn't do anything. Mikey didn't even understand that he should be mad in the first place. And Donny, Donny might have a big brain, but he wasn't tossing out any answers.

Raph turned on Leo in an instant. His anger irrationally displaced and running rampant. He wanted to hear the truth. He needed to hear the truth. All the accusations that must be running in their minds. He needed to fix this. He couldn't let them blame him any longer.

Between the hodgepodge of emotions, Raph managed to get out an, "I need to go back for Master Splinter!"

That seemed to alarm the group more than anything else. Each of them reacted poorly to the information, with eyes widening and a few sharp intakes of breath. Scanning the group allowed Raph to understand that his decision was not going to be supported. They didn't realize that the further away they got, the more Bishop did as well.

"How is that going to solve anything? We can't fight, Raph!" Leo shouted back finally able to gather his voice. His face was torn between rage and terror.

A timid voice rang out of nowhere as Don chided at them. "Guys…"

"Notice the lack of 'we'," snapped Raph, ignoring Donatello completely.

"Guys…"

"Are you crazy? We just got our shell handed to us. I'm not putting anyone else in danger's way."

"That's because you don't care ab-"

"I care plenty!" Leo barked. The war of emotions flew from his eyes, leaving only anger written across his face. His stance became almost defensive as he quipped back, "I'm not the one that was playing hero topside when Master Splinter said not to!"

Raph jerked backwards violently. It was as if he had taken a harsh blow to the chest, even his shallower breathing mimicked the false attack.

At least, he'd finally gotten the words that he sought. The truth. But that didn't dissipate the weight on his back as he thought it might. No, he knew, even if he wasn't yet willing to admit it, that he was at fault and he was going to do something about it, no matter what. He was going back to help his father just as he planned. His brothers were far enough away from the fray for him to worry about their safety. It was his turn to patch things up before anyone could say anything else.

Leo looked as though he regretted his words instantly, seeing his brother retract so violently. His face flooded back with a most apologetic and careful nature. "Raph, I didn't-"

"No. I get it," Raph huffed under his breath, unable to look any of them in the eye at the moment. Both feet paced backwards slowly as his body caught up with his plans. He was too consumed with the tempest burning, swirling through his head. He didn't want to give way to it a budding feeling behind the rage, something that seemed weak, seemed to want to collapse him from the inside. He wasn't about to allow himself to feel anything less than that burning ire churning in the pit of his stomach.

Suddenly, his feet were moving faster, and voices echoed from behind him, trying to call him back.

He didn't care. He wasn't going to let this family fall apart. He was capable enough to make up for their lack due to Bishop. He would bring them back and they would all see that this was a terrible misunderstanding. But most importantly, they would all be safe together again.

* * *

The abandoned train station had been well decorated, almost fitting for a small family such as the one that had just been vacated. That was the entire family except for the rat, who lay collapsed on the ground after Bishop had finally knocked him down. It didn't come without a scratch along his arm, the torn sleeve as evidence. This rat, the one that the foot claimed to be a Japanese immigrant, Hamato Yoshi, was skilled. A most worthy opponent if Bishop had lacked the extended years of training, building his body, both physically and chemically, to peak standards.

Bishop had only a tiny inkling of the skill level of the turtles and their master when arranging his plans. That information was gathered before the foot had discovered his latest spyware models in their base. Since then it had been difficult to maneuver his machinery into any Foot headquarters above, and just recently, below ground. That man, a disgruntled scientist, fired and now under Oroku Saki's thumb, had been the first to locate Bishop's devices. Those dark, keen eyes were far to attuned to technical detail and the machinery he created alerted him of the metallic nanno-bugs immediately. Bishop might have been able to sneak past Oroku Saki and the inept multitude of soldiers at his service, but this man, this Baxter Stockman, was not like the rest. Ever since that day, the foot had quite literally shut him out. A mistake that he was not about to remake tonight.

Bishop had done enough to emotionally blind his pawns to very important details. As long as their states of mind were directed elsewhere, they would be unwilling to see anything beyond their feet. The discombobulation was certain to lead their feet in a direction they knew by heart and Bishop to new discoveries. Without a clear mind, they would impulsively go to places that they thought were safe, and if not, places that they knew. It was instinct. There was always comfort in familiarity and he wanted to know every footstep of these unique beings that he had found only months ago.

Now that his crew was finally awakening, Bishop felt a frown tug on his lips.

The crew the government had assigned him could barely keep up with the turtle_ children_. That had been disappointing, but Bishop hadn't thought much of the people he was forced to work alongside in any case. He had his own people already in the background waiting for his true orders. Let these fools pick themselves up and pretend they were doing the United States a good service. He had allowed them to believe so all along. Just like he had allowed humans in general to believe what they wanted. Ignorant and self-centered, humanity would never survive if they reacted as these men did.

Bishop might want to save humanity, but there would need to be improvement in the human genetic coding if he was to accomplish anything. Nevertheless, he'd planned for his teams ineptitude in any case. Everything was as it should be.

"Get up," Bishop urged as the first man sat up, shaking off the whack to the back of his head. "Move the rat. I want this one put away. He's too much a wild card for my plans. Make sure that he doesn't escape."

The man nodded, before nudging another one, waking in the same groggy state, to help him.

"Sir," buzzed the intercom in his ear. Bishop tilted his head the slightest, two fingers raising to press the button on the side of the small mechanism.

"Are they moving forward?"

"Yes, but one is heading your way."

Bishop nodded. "We had planned for that."

"I understand, sir."

Bishop moved his arms behind his back, clasping his hands together as he surveyed the mess. He wasn't necessarily pleased with what damage he had caused, but, it had been somewhat inevitable. The fault mostly belonging to the Yoshi for being stronger than Saki claimed. An ancient feud that Bishop had secretly used to his advantage. If either of them had known, they might have been a little more careful to keep their fighting less public.

No remorse could be seen on Bishop's face as he paced the lair, eager to poke his head through every nook and cranny. He had planned for no surprises, made precise plans so that none could arise, and even when one did, he had a plan for that one too. Years and years of knowledge had given him the opportunity to truly reflect on how accurately history does tend to move in vicious, yet predictable circles. He had something for every one of them, looping them into one grand plan that might still take decades more to complete in order to accomplish what he wanted. The Kraang were to cocky to suspect foul play in their ball park, too ignorant to understand that what they did might come back and haunt them. They were about to hit a very unlucky streak if Bishop had his way.

Dwelling on that thought, Bishop tapped his ear piece. "Is the girl still with them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I want eyes on her too. Forget the boy. He's useless to me."

Bishop entered into a darkened room with an eerie glow gleaming from the back of it. His eyes scanned the interior of the doorframe, finally finding a latch that served as a switch. Yanking it upwards, light flooded into the tiny space, glistening off of beakers, crowed shelves of tools, a computer that should not have been able to function properly, and jars of every variety and shape. They rested on tables, off tables. Empty containers piled up in clutters around the back of the desk while filled ones remained in the foreground. One large, see-through container in the corner was filled with goop that stared back at him. A mass of floating organs and two eye balls plucked from their sockets might have been intimidating had Bishop not been prepared for nearly every sight and outcome of the night. He watched as the two eyes stared at him with a lack of real comprehension. A monster, just the recipe for the Kraang's interference. This was living proof of their specialty.

It was the green ooze that sat on the table that had Bishop's attention. He didn't much mind where the eyes in the presumably organic goop traveled. He walked up to the ooze container and plucked it out of the mess it was surrounded by. The letters T.C.R.I. were inscribed across the jar.

Bishop immediately pocketed the item.

His other set of fingers still hovered over his ear piece, before pressing it down. Resting below the tinted glass surface, Bishop's eyes spun towards the creature watching him in a strange, unintelligible curiosity. There was barely anything holding this gelatinous creature together. It was completely divided up into once human organs, beating, pumping, pulsating in their own familiar functions. They were all separated in how they reacted but working together in harmony in accordance with their design, their master plan. One piece out of place might put the miserable monster out of it's misery. Bishop had no need for plans gone astray, his pieces were all as they needed and soon they would be operating just as this creature was.

"I think it's time that we dissipate the group," began Bishop finding the goo-creature inspiring. "Make sure that you do so successfully and do not lose a single one of them."

He was met with an, "Understand, sir."

That sufficed for the moment.

Surely by now his pawns were scavenging all the places Bishop might have missed. Let them lead the way. Bishop didn't mind being a follower... for the moment.

* * *

The wake of Raph's exit, a very distraught team behind was left behind, each not understanding what just took place, or understanding how to go about their next movements. As it stood, they couldn't go back, but they couldn't allow Raph to head home without some sort of back up. It was the lesser of the two evils they were forced to choose. Each of them knew that going back would mean another battle. They were ill-prepared for that sort of rendezvous and slowly the realization began to dawn on them. Their situation, as difficult as it might have been, became worse.

If the red masked brother didn't come to his senses soon, then they would be forced down one extra member.

"Oh, man," Casey replied in half panic. He threw his hands into his hair, messing up his bandana a little to reveal more tufts of jet black, poking out in odd angles. He made a move towards Raph's direction before glancing over at April and then Raph's direction again. He seemed split down the middle, not knowing who needed him more. His eyes spun towards Mikey's hand and then Donatello's bloodied chest plates. He glanced at April, her eyes directed on him, imploring him not to go after his best friend.

She made a step forward, unsure if Casey was going to bolt too. She didn't want him to. Her face read that she didn't want him to.

But He felt like it. He wanted to.

Casey was as caught in indecision as Leo was at the moment.

"We've gotta get him!" Mikey was practically tugging on the jacket that was bundled around Leo's torso.

April recognized the glint of grief in Casey's eyes. Their eyes met and he seemed a bit less flighty. Relief struck the redhead as she pulled herself away once again and unconsciously grabbed a hold of Don's arm. She wanted stability right now. Casey was anything but, whereas Donatello seemed grounded, perhaps due to his silence, but that didn't matter all the same.

Don stared at Leo, who was staring down the tunnel Raph disappeared off in. The logical part of Don's mind swarmed all other thoughts, pushing the need to simply run after Raphael and beg him to come back, out of the way. The situation was too risky and no one seemed to be understanding it, with him as the exception. "We can't do anything, Leo. Mikey and you have some serious injuries. If you wanted to send Casey and me..."

Leo numbly shook his head. He inhaled deeply as he looked upwards, to the ground, away, ...anywhere else. He tore himself from his spot. "We can't go back. Any of us," he stated directly to Mikey. There was a sturdiness to his tone despite it being so softly spoken.

Mikey looked perplexed by his older brothers' affirmation. "But Raph-"

"We can't go back!" Leo shouted this time. His eyes scrunched, a deep furrow on his face. The words of his sensei came back to him, reminding him that no matter what, no matter who needed to be sacrificed, it had to be done for the greater good. He had the responsibility of everyone left. He had responsibility to keep them safe and protect them as best he knew how.

A sharp pain associated itself with the realization that he had a responsibility to Raph as well. Something that he was forced to ignore now that Raphael had made his own rash decision. Raph didn't understand that he running off was the worst possible thing. They were all emotionally unsettled and could barely cope what they could actually do. By going back, Raph was forcing them into one of the hardest decisions that Leo had ever had to make. Raph's choice to return would be undoubtedly heartbreaking in the end either way. But if they went after him…

The very thought of witnessing his remaining two younger brothers torn apart made Leo's decision strengthen in his mind. He was not about to face an over-confident Bishop lecturing him about what was proper and what wasn't as he sliced through Mikey and Donatello, limb by limb, the same as he had done to Leonardo.

"We can't go back," stated Leo. His voice calm as his eyes focused on a single dark spot on the ground. "We have to keep going, we've wasted too much time."

Don ushered Mikey and April close as he quickly obeyed Leo's directions. He didn't even mind when Casey walked over and wrapped an arm around April, patting Don good-naturedly on the shoulder for taking care of her. They began forward, though Leo lingered for a moment longer, peering back down the tunnel before feigning on a stiff upper lip and turning from it.

He couldn't save Raph. He... no, they...They were just going to have to except that he couldn't save Raph. Not this time.

* * *

In the midst of the devastation, no one thought much about much more than their despair. Unknowingly, they were once again falling victims to Bishop's over-arching scheme, becoming as Bishop had predicted them to be.

Behind them on the walls, nanno-bugs completely undetected, followed the turtles' and O'Neil's every move, keeping in the shadows and looking nothing more than moving specks on the walls. They remained a certain distance behind, though they were in clear view of traveling group. Their steel exterior impossible to penetrate, indestructible to the sewer conditions. Each was no bigger than a thumb nail, and shine dulled. The long needle-like legs were programed to move faster, keeping just out of sight from the group. It would take a special sixth sense to point them out because they, unlike Baxter Stockman, did not have advanced machinery to work with. As for the possibility of inhuman ability to sense danger, Bishop had settled that issue with enough sensory overload. Nothing was even a hair out of place besides the one turtle. And even he was already combed back into the fold.

From behind the machines, the operators received word from Bishop to deploy their hidden weapon.

There was to be division within the group of turtles and humans. The operators needed to separate them and them separate. It was their job to make it so or otherwise Bishop, notorious for his impatience with incompetence, would make them regret their error.

Transparent, odorless gas leaked from one of the nanno-bugs as they crept forwards. A chain reaction occurred as they jutted forward in break-neck pace. Soon the gas filled the air.

Along a parallel sewer line, two figures ran along, ear pieces receiving the same messages delivered by Bishop. They were trained by the man himself and had undergone extensive discipline and obedience to Bishop's ways. They were nothing like the government agents back in the turtle's lair.

The men's tranquilizer guns, hidden behind them were loaded, readied when the time came. Each dart had only a few drops of liquid chemicals in them titrated with salt water. Their boss had been very clear that things were to run their course until he pulled the plug on it.

That meant he want a believable fight. He needed the turtles to think that they were injured and sluggish from poison running through their system. It was the only means of truly motivating his prey to get away and push themselves into a deeper panic.

The men reared into an alley further up, analyzing the tunnels as they had many times before this moment. Bishop didn't want his pawns to know that they were being trailed, herded into very specific directions that they unknowingly traveled. Any secret base, any secured source of mutagen, Bishop wanted to know it all before he came to collect.

His men, his personal crew, knew the plan well.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Let's see if I've knocked all the grammatical errors out... It's finals week and I probably should be concentrating a bit more on my sizable paper I have to deliver very, very soon. If you guys spot anything wonky and senseless let me know. My beta is me, and I've already gotten on my case about keeping up with my stories. So this is entirely the other me's fault; I am not to be blamed.

(My sources tell me this is not the best argument when shifting blame. Ha! We'll see...)

Ok, enough silliness on my part...

**One Disaster too Many**  
**Chapter 7**

Raphael doubled back. His vision blurred with the horrendous images that might await him once he broke into the lair. He didn't want to see his father in peril. He didn't want to envision what bloody mess might greet him at the door. He'd witnessed Bishop's handiwork on his brothers, who had escaped. Master Splinter hadn't and that was a definite indication that something had gone horribly wrong. Additionally, their father would have come to find them if he had won the battle.

An almost optimistic voice chimed in that perhaps Master Splinter hadn't fallen prey to this new enemy. Perhaps his father was still drawn into the battle waiting for him to return. Being such a strong and bold figure in Raphael's life, it didn't take much for Raph to see his father standing until his exerted every last minutia of strength left his body. Even Bishop had stated that it was difficult to knock him down. Though there were no sounds bouncing off the tunnels as there had been when Raphael, his brothers, and friends had left. Nothing could be heard the closer Raph came.

...He was still off a ways.

Raph pushed back the doubt and clung to the slim chance with all his might.

Even if the outcome hadn't been favorable, it would have been easier on Raph's psyche if he could have been able to remain by his father's side. He was the strongest of his brothers. He could handle himself in a fight as long as he had Master Splinter there right next to him. But, Master Splinter had been forceful about Raphael taking his battered brothers and leaving quickly. He had handed Raph the duty to lead the group to safety since Leo had been unable to, something that Raph was surprised at, but hadn't argued. There was no time to argue. Master Splinter had made it abundantly clear that he didn't want to see any more harm come to Raph's three brothers. He needed the piece of mind that they were out of sight and long gone from this disaster.

Raph had completed his duty. Now he had one more task; to make sure that his father got back safely.

Through the compilation, he couldn't focus on anything other than using his fists to rectify some justice on the situation. All three of his brothers were suffering injuries and here he was scar-less from the encounter. He, the one that should have gone back to the lair long before this had happened, seemed destined to escape injury.

Clenching his teeth together in the same worked up rage and ferocity, Raph decided that if there was one thing that he could do to fix this, to even be remotely presentable to his siblings, it was to bring back their father. They weren't going to last long on their own without Master Splinter. Every one of them knew that, whether they were willing to admit it or not. They weren't ready or prepared enough to lose a parent's guidance. The wise, adoptive father had developed into something that couldn't be interchanged in their lives; a constant that each of the boys connected to on a daily basis. Master Splinter, the epitome of wisdom, strength, and light, seemed to understand them all at such an intimate, fragile levels. He had deduced how to raise the four boys through not only their distinctive of their personalities, but by knowing what made them each tick. All of his lessons had been maneuvered, rearranged accordingly to strengthen their weaknesses and to reinforce their strengths.

He just…knew them.

Raph couldn't bite back the slip of sadness at the thought. Master Splinter was the only one that didn't judge him based on his anger. In fact, Master Splinter had regaled tales of his own youth to Raphael. Ones that suggested Master Splinter might not always been the patient, enlightened man who Raph knew him as today. Once a long time ago, Master Splinter alluded to a youth filled with a burning temper that had singed and caused much harm to those he loved. It gave Raphael hope. Could he one day be as strong and brave and discerning as his sensei?

The moment washed away as the feelings of despair dripped into the hot iron of burning fury deep inside, sizzling the thoughts into vapors that drifted from view. Any thoughts of remorse were better saved until later. It was easier to cope with temper fuming and fists wound tight. It made fighting easier. It drove out any accounts of failing, of what could happen.

If there was one thing that Raphael learned through his brooding, it was that his thoughts were troublesome on their own accord. They had no qualms with finding him and delving in, picking at each and every insecurity that he might have. Though, he had learned another thing as well. If he could not banish them, they would cause him to slip up. The inability to ward them off in battle was dangerous and risky. Raphael didn't disappoint his team. He didn't hold back because of all the 'would-haves' and 'could-haves'. That was a weakness he did not allow himself to surrender to.

And neither would he surrender to them when he meet this Bishop guy face to face again.

This whirlwind of chaos was going to end now and Raph was going to see to it.

The plodding of his feet became more pronounced as he neared the entrance. He was grateful that he could run back in thrice the pace as it had taken him to lead his brothers away. Though they weren't as far as he might have wanted them to be from all of this.

The laggard pace that his brothers had dragged along at was unnervingly slow, leaving them close to where they had started. Raph noticed this with much dismay. There was nothing he could do with that now, except slow down whoever might be ready to spring out. Pushing the nearness of the others away, Raph gathered that as material for the sector of his mind that fueled his energy into a greater rage, ignoring the stillness in the air. There was going to be no getting to his brothers as long as he could help it. No one touched his family without messing with him first.

Raph tore through the entrance. With a mighty leap, he threw himself over the turnstiles and swished his three pronged blades around until they were poised to kill. His eyes scanned the mess left behind and ground his back teeth into saw dust. Their once, tidy home was demolished. The signs of a once happy family spewed out across the floor, torn and tattered.

"Where are you?" shouted Raph, eyes blazing in green fire. He burned a hole into every nook and cranny of the room.

Desolate.

Ruined.

"Come on!" Raph bellowed from the pit of his stomach. His fingers were painfully itching, making his grip steel on his sai. "If you want a fight, then I'll give you one!"

Silence.

It was unnerving, deadly.

Raphael took it all in, unable to block the tense, grave atmosphere from permeating through his shell. His searched for a sign, an indication that his father might still be there. Maybe in his room, or hiding elsewhere. This could be what was left...

Blood still stained the walls, the floor towards the right of the room. Donny was the one bleeding the most profusely at the time, only caring about making sure everyone else was safe. That was certainly his stain, trailing out the door. It could have been Leo's as well if Don hadn't done such a superb job at bandaging their older brother. There was no doubt about the stains on the walls though. Only Leo had been plastered there. But that was it, the only marks of blood that his eyes could see.

It meant that his father had to be here...or...or close by. He couldn't have been captured without being struck first.

Raph stared down at the duo of katanas that lay useless on the ground. Each caked in crimson red, coated all the way to the hilt. Slowly making his way over to them, and shakily lifting them up for a closer view, Raph couldn't help but close his eyes tightly. These were definitely Leo's. He couldn't just leave them here like this. Out of all his brothers, Leo was the one that was the most glued to his weapon. Although, after training so many hours, it was easy to see why.

Opening his eyes, Raph grabbed the katanas and began his search anew. He was here for a purpose. He could catch up to his brother's soon enough. But first he needed one, final thing, one person that could make this all better...

...Master Splinter.

Raph stormed the lair.

The silence was confusing, unwelcoming. His thoughts became blackened, and stomach rolled as he poked his nose into every room. Every reflection of childhood glared back at him as he searched. Pictures hung on the walls, beds partly made, Master Splinter's tea kettle sitting ceremoniously in its corner of the kitchen…but nothing.

Raph was chasing ghosts, not men ...not now.

Everything was vacated. He was alone.

An enraged scream flew from deep within his throat as he slammed himself down into the ground, pounding the cement with a thundering force, sai and katanas clattering to the ground in a sound that was all too loud.

"Coward!" Raph exclaimed to the stale air. But no one was there to listen.

* * *

There was no looking back, only pressing forwards. They didn't have time to stop and think things through as much as the purple masked brother might have liked to. It was move or be caught. With those sorts of options, they had to forego the luxury of planning the next step in front of them.

Don stared down at his brothers' worriedly. Their wounds the first thing that he noticed and tacked onto his list of things he needed more time to mull over. Yes, he was as close to a doctor that his family was ever going to see, but he had no idea the extent of the injuries that they had all obtained. His own lacerated shutes, that would heal. He didn't care so much as to perplex himself on his own wounds. He knew that it would heal given time. If anything had been pierced, there was a likely chance that he wouldn't be moving right now. Therefore, he was positive that he was safe. Besides, April had cared enough for the both of them, something that Donny was sure to gush over once this whole mess was behind them.

As for Mikey, his hand was oddly bent, swollen, crumbled in appearance. It didn't look pretty and Don was going to need a little more than band-aids for that mess. A cast for his hand would have to be made and quickly. The small bones, carpals, were certain to be associated with a terrible pain. Don would have to make sure that it wasn't too severe or that would lead to complications in the future. As for now, Mikey was doing a fine job keeping his hand held at rest by his other.

Leo, well, he had indicated a slight movements in his shoulders when he had argued with Raph. That was a good sign. Don didn't want to speculate too much on what sorts of dilemmas might arise. They only became increasingly worse when guessing where the katana's might have stuck him. Had Don been paying attention better, instead of frantically hurrying to unpin his brother, he might have noticed where the katanas were embedded. It was a little late now and Don didn't know if he even wanted a closer look being so near the lair.

The lair...

...Raph…

Don's thoughts quieted.

They couldn't turn back. What Raph had done had pained them all.

Raph didn't think about things. Consequences and other such responsibilities was something that Donatello and Leonardo dwelled on continuously. They didn't have luxury of freedom to run off whenever they pleased. Leonardo was constantly herded into training sessions since his volunteer of being leader. Suddenly, the nonsense and childish awe that his older brother portrayed only months before was being washed away into practice, practice, practice. Don had watched the weight of responsibility tumble their older brother's world, flipping it upside down half the time and making him a bit more aggressive, snappish, and argumentative. He had gained a stubborn edge to his persona that might have otherwise been more or less mellow. He was less forgiving than he use to be, less cocky than he used to be. Inadvertently, Leo's gradual change was directly proportional to the increase of all the same personality attributes to Don's immediate older brother, Raphael.

But, as the two elder siblings bickered over what could or couldn't be handled, Donatello sat back, already knowing this game of responsibility from a ripe, young age. He'd piecemeal the lair together; the electricity, running water, every pipe, every cord, every bound bundle of wires in the walls until they were all functioning unit, suitable enough for his family to grow. He fixed every broken toy, sewer hazard, home repair. He fixed every scratch, broken bone, stitched every laceration, iced every black eye. He'd had that job since he was much, much younger than fifteen.

Donny was no stranger to responsibility. Which was why he couldn't fathom how Raph had come to the conclusion that his job was to leave them here, stranded, only to return to a fight that was certainly long over.

"Why?" Don muttered, his mind too disheveled to come to any other conclusion to Raphael's actions. They needed him. But he went back. He couldn't what had been done from within Bishop's grasp, so why did he go back?

"Donny?" Mikey glanced upwards, still in the hold of his purple masked brother.

There was no smile on that freckled face. No trace of jubilation that usually filled it.

"I'm just…not thinking," Don stated, knowing that dumping his feelings, as rational or irrational as they might be at the moment, on everyone else's shoulders, could stagnant whatever momentum that kept them going. If anything, they needed to not think about things for a while and give their minds time to clear enough for an idea of what to do to strike.

April's shoulder leaned closer into the purple masked turtle. Her glassy eyes scanning, imploring Donny not to breakdown on them now. Don returned the notion with a squeeze to her shoulder, succumbing the concern in those robin blue eyes.

She allowed Casey to grab ahold of her other hand, meanwhile holding onto Don's tightly with her right. Casey looked anything but begrudging at the moment and even offered Don a pat on the arm. Don couldn't help but give his competitor turned ally a smile.

He didn't like Casey most times. They silently and carefully argued over April, each trying to prove their worth. Although, right now, Don couldn't help but feel relieved that Casey hadn't been as impulsive as Raph had been. It was obvious that April needed as many of her friends surrounding her as she could. Plus, Casey had done more than what Don himself could do for Leo. His jacket had been a sheer act of both brilliancy and caring, turning it into a sling of sorts. It helped ease Don's worry tremendously, knowing that there would be a lack of stretching as far as Leo's arms were concerned.

Don's eyes floated towards his eldest brother, who seemed to be carrying his own, walking a bit ahead of the group. He was leading, but where, Don couldn't fathom. Leo was in a world of his own at the moment and whatever he had planned to do, he wasn't sharing.

Donny dared not ask where they were going either. As much as April had implored him not to melt down, he didn't want Leo to do the same. The last thing Donatello could handle was his last stronghold on reality, his last source of reason to fall to pieces. He couldn't let that happen. Whatever it took to prevent that, he would make sure that it didn't happen.

Abruptly, Leo stopped.

Don followed, eyes weary, drawn to make sure that the movement hadn't been caused from a jolt of pain. If Leo wobbled in the slightest, he was going to have to catch him. The thought frightened Don after just finished his resolve of not letting anyone fall apart on him.

But Leo wasn't caving in, crashing mightily to the ground. He was standing still, stiffened as if he had come to a realization of something significant.

Don inspected his brother's motionless state once again.

He was listening.

Fearing the worst, Don tried to hide his own panic as he shifted around, glancing down the dark tunnels, while the cords of his heart hammered on in disharmony, getting louder and more explosive in his chest.

"Guys," Leo inched backwards, almost as if he didn't want to move. "I'm getting a strange feeling."

Casey flew away from April, arm resting over his hockey stick. Too many trips with the turtles and Casey wasn't about to question Leo's innate sixth sense. April, likewise, pulled out her tesson, though she remained glued to Don's side.

Mikey made for his own weapons and hissed as his broken hand smacked against the empty belt. He pulled his throbbing hand back, trying to keep the hiss under his breath as he exhaled.

"Oh man," groaned Michelangelo, realizing how unprepared they all were for an attack.

Don peered around, noticing Leo's eyes wandering the narrow passageways, inspecting everything around him.

"Mikey, Don," Leo sputtered, noticing that he wasn't alone in his weaponless state. "Master Splinter said that anything can be used as a weapon."

Mikey peered down, disbelieving. "Bottle caps and Chinese take out?"

Don frowned, noticing that Leo had nudged the metallic bottle caps away from the wall. Then using his foot, he stomped them into discs. Tugging at Casey's jacket, one of his arms fell out and he winced, picking up the flattened pieces.

The doctor instinct in Don snapped to life seeing that Leo was holding back as much pain as he possibly could. He wanted nothing more than to yank his older brother aside and warn him about the injures that he received becoming more serious the more he exerted energy into his shoulders. There was no doubt that his muscles were torn to high heaven, but there was a strong chance that the katana had imbedded itself through bone, increasing the severity. What would be worse, tearing straight through the muscle, which would never allow Leo to heal the same way. If Leo tore himself up anymore, he might be looking at surgery as his only means of hope, not that he might not be at that point already.

"Hand them to me," Don replied, snatching them in more paranoia than he wanted to display. "You need to save your arms or I won't be able to do anything for them."

Mikey grabbed the wooden chop sticks, giving them a once over. "There is no way that Master Splinter could have meant 'anything' could be used as a weapon. I mean…"

Mikey held up the chop sticks for emphasis.

"Shush," April urged, voice low. "I think I heard something."

Her eyes peered down the crossroad of tunnels, slipping over every crack and crevice while her hand slipped behind her back and pulled out a small series of aligned sharpened rods.

The metal blades of her tesson sprang open as her eyes widened. She blinked a few times, holding back the small build up of tears forming. Donny caught it on a his second glance around the room, eyes checking back and forth over April's face in care. "Something in your eyes?"

April inhaled deeply before stepping back. "I don't know. I might just be over tired. They're a little sore."

"Me too," Mikey agreed, rubbing at his own eyes. "They kind of hurt."

Leo blinked a few times, eyes glazing over as if something was pestering them as well. He didn't confirm their observations, but didn't need to. Don was already starting to feel a bit of the effects of whatever this was, all around him.

"They put something in the air," Don realized, feeling the irritation building in his eyes at an alarming rate, as he began to blink.

"This stuff sucks!" roared Casey as he backed directly into April, causing them both to stumble away from the wall.

"We've got to hurry!" Leo shouted from ahead, covering his own eyes.

The group didn't need to be told twice before moving behind Leo's general direction, urging them forward. In quite literally, blind faith, they pursued the blue masked turtle's voice, each dragging the other along after them as they ran along the tunnels.

It wasn't far along their path did Leo shout surprise and stumble backwards. The sound of his shell hitting to cement pulled everyone back from their race, throwing their feet forwards in a halt, allowing friction to take control. There was most definitely something blocking their path.

Don blinked repeatedly, getting only glimpses of figures in the dim lights that were looming over his brother. They were blurred images, shapes really, moving, shifting. Bent on protecting the remainder of his family, Don jutted forwards, twirling the bottle caps in his hand and pinching them between his fingers. He then used the sharp jagged edges to slice and dice at the man's arm, tearing the sleeve and scrapping skin before darting off in a different direction.

Behind Don, he could hear Mikey grunting and April gasp before something slammed into the wall. He didn't have time to spin around fully, so instead he concentrated on what he could hear rather than see. He couldn't quite catch the fight that April and Mikey were in, but he did recognize by the swishing of the rough jacket fabric, who he was next to.

Leo had picked himself up by that time and pulled out his one arm, a hidden, dagger no bigger than his finger slashed forwards. One of the men, instantly backed away into the darkness, while the other sprang out at them. Don launched himself at the later of the two before Leo could destroy the remains of his tattered shoulders, engaging in an all out fight with him, still half blinded by the toxins in the air.

Another swipe with the bottle caps made the man hiss softly before Don was thrown backwards. The slam to the ground left Don dizzy while the shadow moved forwards.

Don heard Leo grunt from somewhere up in front of him. His mind reeled with what to do before getting up and skidding on his shell towards his and Leo's attacker and throwing the man completely off guard.

But a swift kick sent Don spinning backwards once more, toppling over himself further along down the hallway and further away from the where they had arrived from.

He glanced down to find a glass bottle next to him. He grabbed it, hopped up and ran straight forward for the second time. Weaving it around the man's prone form, Don slammed it directly into his attacker's shoulder blade. The bottle hit hard enough to release a rippling crack in the air and fracture into multiple pieces, crumbling to the ground in a rainfall of slivers.

One of the men further off down the tunnel where April, Mikey and Casey were last seen, mumbled something incoherent. Don got up, readying himself for whatever may come from the darkness. His vision though was drastically improving, which was a sign of hope. He had to be versatile in all situations, but vision accounted for a majority of well he performed, with hearing coming in a close second. It was just the nature of things and he knew that his peak abilities without vision were going to be significantly lower than with it. With the foggy haze clearing in his eyes, he was going to make sure he was twice the force to be reckoned with.

All until something pricked his arm, piercing his thick skin, and hanging off of it completely embedded. He peered downwards to see a dart and instantly his heart fell. Their widow of escape was closing rapidly.

He heard Leo quietly yelp in surprise as well. Leo peered down, immediately removing the needle in his own arm. It would have been too late to have stopped whatever was inside from making its way into his bloodstream, but Leo tried anyways. His eyes widened as the needle rolled in his hand and his eyes shot out towards Donatello and then backwards.

"Guys, run!" Leo shouted, grabbing Don's wrist and following his own command.

Don did just that, not needing for Leo to be pulling him along. His mind began working over the possibility of what they were injected with. If it was something toxic to them, they were going to collapse any second. They only had a few precious moments before they were out for the count.

Every step was becoming more and more woozy. His paces slowing. Leo's pace was slowing. His hand pulled the dart out of his own arm and threw it on the ground. It might not be improving their situation, but it made Donatello feel better at least.

He caught sight of his older brother trying to shake off the effects of whatever they had been hit with.

Don turned to see if anyone else was following, but a stream line of darts flew in his direction. They were close, but none of them hit as true as the first two. Leo used his free arm to grab Don and tug his second youngest brother forward, down the halls.

Don didn't turn back, not knowing that they had lost the other three members of their team. He assumed that they would be there, mind more focused on getting out before they went down. Leo kept a firm hold, despite his own sluggish reactions.

Neither knew it was only the two of them, while their remaining sibling, Casey, and April went sailing down an adjacent tunnel.


	8. Chapter 8

**One Disaster too Many**  
**Chapter 8**

The green sludge of mutagen was tucked under Bishop's arm, still in it's cylindrical canister swishing back and forth in clumped semi-solid, semi-liquid chunks. The same containers that Bishop had seen around the city and had been collecting alongside his new two competitions, the foot and the turtles. That would all be taken care of soon. He would make sure that both lacked competition to his plans. That both of his enemies worked, unknowingly for him.

Just like the so called wild card sprawled out next to him, he'd remove anyone that stood in his way, that dared to overthrow the grip of control he had on the situation. The thin fur covered by a kimono moved up and down in even, steady beats. It was proof that Bishop didn't wish to destroy anyone quite yet. He preferred not to burn any bridges before their time. If he needed something, he want anything and everything accessible to him. That included the deformed Hamato Yoshi, who had been filled with enough tranquilizing darts to keep him unconscious for as long as Bishop needed him to be.

Glancing around at the men accompanying him, Bishop had plenty of time to analyze his current situation and what to do about it. Not every one of these men were his. There were a few that had been implemented by the government. No one got away with a completely new and private sector in the government without some superior overseeing it. Bishop didn't mind for the moment. It aided in keeping the government from trailing after all the right clues and made things less convoluted for Bishop's actual plans. They didn't need to know every detail about the case. They just needed enough to satisfy Bishop's superior for the time being. As long as they didn't know whether they should keep Bishop or not, meant that Bishop had both the attention and the service to do his work. All this reminded him of one service he would need to cut loos, he'd let Kurtzman run his own course for a little too long now, just enough to pull a very important specimen into the mix. Now that Kurtzman had served his country beautifully, Bishop would need to clean up and quickly. Bishop did not work well with loose ends. Not in his line of business.

A hand rested over his coat pocket, folded pieces of paper stuck bunched up inside, making the fabric stretch. He gave the papers a pat as he leaned back in his seat, earpiece still on.

Bishop had given his team, his true team, orders that he wanted carried out to the letter. They knew the code, understood Bishop's need for complete control, and obeyed his words without thought.

"Sir, they are directly ahead of us."

Bishop tilted his head the slightest, two fingers tapping down on the button over his ear. "You only took one shot, correct?"

The man sitting in the back with him gave Bishop a questioning look. Bishop remained stoic and unnerved by the intense stare the man was giving him as if trying to solve the puzzle that was Bishop. He could care less who heard or what the others might think of him. They thought what they wanted to regardless.

The answer he got back was affirmative. This pleased him.

"We aren't going after the turtles?" the man finally asked, taking up a bit more room on the seat and raising his head an inch or so. Bishop rose and eyebrow at his companion, watching the other puff himself up to appear bigger than he actually was. A technique used to intimidate, but certainly one that failed where Bishop was concerned. He didn't intimidate easily. Nevertheless, Bishop answered the question. He didn't need a fight on his hands at the moment. Pacifying this one man would prove faster and more beneficial to Bishop.

"There are more pressing matters at hand. I suspect aliens terrorizing this city in particular might be more…relevant to our current agenda."

The man sent Bishop an odd look before casting it towards the giant rat sleeping on ground. Bishop already saw the formation of what inquiry might come next and quickly silenced it before the man had time to dwell on his thoughts for too long. It was easier to manipulate an idea in the process of development than it was to manipulate words already spoken. Bishop just needed to take the lead of the thought and spin it to where he intercepted it completely, changed it into what he wanted asked and not asked. That made life simpler for them both. "Another mutant, but a dead end."

That should throw the man off his tracks for a bit.

The man's body frame remained rigid as he stared at the body a little while longer.

"We'll have the scientists analyze it just to be sure."

The man's form slumped ever so slightly at the reassurance that science would explain what couldn't be explained. A sure sign of a victory made Bishop lean back in his seat. He awaited news of how his men had stirred up and divided a very important little clan under the sewers.

* * *

Mikey inched along the wall, supporting April with the help of Casey. All three were breathing heavily from running as fast as they could, a dart in each of them, attempting to sedate them. No where to be seen was Donatello and Leonardo. That left them completely alone and somehow down a side tunnel that they had been forced to escape into.

April pulled the group forward, half lidded eyes searching the dark expanse and then finding a small darkened crevice along the sewer wall. Without waiting for the other two to confirm her plan, she steered them in that direction. As she pulled free of her two supporters, she grabbed their hands and tugged them into the crevice. Mikey and Casey were dragged inside before April collapsed in utter exhaustion. She heaved a moment, choking a bit as she lost breath and then regained it in deep gasps. Her mind swam back and forth between her own survival to protection of her friends. She was going to have to be strong for the other two with her. She had to continue being the big sister, knowing that Mikey was going to need some support not having any of his existing family members around him.

He didn't seem to have realized it all yet, which was a good thing. But April was positive that he would grow clingy a tad unsure of himself when he realized that he was the only one that Casey and her had managed to get to safety. Agent Bishop's men were undoubtedly still out there looking for them, the darts had kept them from going back to find the others. April had heard Leo's final command to run and she had the only way that looked clear. When she grabbed ahold of the hand next to her, it was her every intention to tug Mikey back with her to regroup with the others. But that hadn't happened. They were out maneuvered and forced a different way out.

They couldn't return either. That would be a useless endeavor. It was all mute now. Don and Leo had gone off a separate direction, that April was certain of, knowing that they too were under heavy attack. There was a chance that they hadn't made it very far, a large chance.

Biting her lip in distress, April banged her head against the wall now propping her up. She grunted as pain erupted from the back of her skull, warning her that she hadn't made the wisest of choices in her actions.

"You ok, red?"

April gave a weary glance over towards Casey. She might have been a little more cutting if she were in a frenzy, but the sedative had wiped that clean of her. Instead, she opted to give him a frown which he nodded, fully understanding that no, she was not ok and this situation was not ok.

"Mikey…still have the T-phone?" April asked in a mumbled voice.

Mikey glanced down, eyes scanning his belt. Everything seemed to be missing. "I think I might have dropped it."

April nodded, trying to make her mind work clearly. The haze that covered it, like a thick fog was so strong that she could barely make heads or tails of details at the moment. Every now and then, some thought would fade into view. Then the mist of poison in her system would conceal it again. The most aggravating part, was that her senses and feelings were dulled down to a point of nonexistence.

She tried to pick herself up, temporarily seeing black, but steadied herself. Her arms were spread across the uneven crevice, brushing up against the nodules of cement and something moist that she didn't bother to question. Already she beginning to gain back the process of normal thought flow. She didn't need to be dwelling on something irrelevant to commandeer her mind as it regained the fluidity of reality.

Tapping her pocket, she was able to pull out her T-phone, remembering that she had one tucked away. "At least…"

Her fingers skidded over the numbers.

"Who are you calling?" Mikey asked, becoming more lucid.

April didn't speak. She didn't want to have to explain that she might not get anyone to answer. That would be crushing news to them all, but mostly to Mikey. If anyone knew what it was like missing her inner family, it was April. She knew what truly being alone meant. Nothing had been the same when she came home as it had been when she was enveloped into her father's warm embrace.

Reminiscing longer on those days, April couldn't help but wish he were there with her. She needed him right now. She needed his comfort or Master Splinter's guidance, or even her Aunt to pat her on the shoulder and mumble about how horrible April's father was at taking care of his child.

The phone just rang and rang.

April heaved a sigh before dialing the next number. Inwardly, she prayed that if Don didn't answer, perhaps Leo might. Maybe Donny had lost his phone, just like Mikey, yet Leo still had his on him. The thought seemed a bit absurd, but April wasn't going to throw the chance away without testing her hypothesis first.

Once again, nothing.

Dialing the last number, April held her breath, waiting for Raphael to answer. She didn't dare turn towards the baby blue orbs watching her every move in anticipation.

But there was nothing like before.

Hanging up the cell, April buried the device back in her pocket before glancing down at the two sets of eyes staring at her. She tried to crack a smile and failed miserably.

"They aren't answering, are they?" whispered Mikey. He wasn't showing signs of any emotion, just stared at her with tired eyes.

He had known. April cursed herself for being so obvious. Here she was trying to be big sister and she was already falling short on the job. Never would she ever try to hurt any of them, in the least case someone was exuberant and vivacious as Michelangelo.

Inwardly, she felt the need to console, slowly reaching out to the other. "Mikey…"

The turtle sighed loudly at April calling his name, halting her hand from resting on the back of his hand. April instead pulled retracted the hand and tugged her knees close to her chin. It made the older teen feel as if she had somehow wronged him by doing what she had done. Perhaps she should have waited, should have been alone when making those calls. Though another part of her battled that Mikey had a right to know. She couldn't keep this a secret from him and hope that he would magically not ask about his brothers. That was a ridiculous notion.

"Do you think that those guys might catch up with us?" Casey questioned, not really paying attention to the other two. His focus was on what was out in the tunnels.

Usually, April would have been upset at Casey for barding into an important conversation, but she couldn't help but embrace the opportunity to change topics. In fact, she was more than eager to change topics. She unwound herself before reaching down and grabbing Mikey's hand. "We need to keep moving. We can't let them keep catching up to us like they have been."

Casey lightly pulled April over to one side of the crevice before peeking out into the open tunnel.

"They aren't in eye sight."

Mikey placed a three fingered hand on Casey's shoulder. "We better get going then."

They slipped out without another word.

There wasn't any debate of who took the lead. April somehow found herself ahead of the other two, every now and then checking behind her to make sure that her two friends were still there. She picked up her pace a little, not quite knowing where exactly to go, but letting her feet carry her there in any case. They needed somewhere safe, somewhere away from prying eyes. She didn't know where to lead them or what to do. That was usually something she tended to lean on Donatello or Leo for. Despite her being old than them, they just seemed born with an innate sense of direction.

As she glanced back at the two running silently, adjacent to her, she couldn't help but feel that help was going to be needed. Her father and aunt weren't an option. For the same reason as her aunt, Casey's family wasn't an option either. So that left it to someone who knew them.

Her mind twirled as Kurtzman's speech came back to her. Did she trust him after this? Was he telling her the truth about everything? However, if it wasn't for him, then she might not have made it down in time. Donny was already a mess and she still had his blood on the remains of her tattered overskirt and shorts. If Kurtzman hadn't sought her out, she would not have a second family to rely on any longer. In a way, that deserve some sort of redemption.

April shook her head. No, it didn't make up for it, but they were beyond desperate. Without the others, they needed someone to run to that could perhaps keep them safe. It didn't make Kurtzman necessarily trustworthy, but it did mean that they had access to something that could get them away from Bishop and this city.

When Kurtzman had grabbed her arm, he seemed to be earnestly concerned, even scared. He was filled with sorrow, not malice, not a sign of anything untrustworthy. His words rang all the louder. The last sentence of his speech replayed, his voice had dropped low and filled with sincerity, _"If you run into any trouble I will make sure to be there as soon as you call me,"_ repeating over and over. It left April running dry to what other choices they had left. This was a risk they were going to have to take.

Placing a hand over her pocket and inhaling deeply, she slowed enough that she was racing beside Mikey and Casey. "Guys, we're going to need help and I think I know someone willing to help us."

Casey and Mikey only stared at her, not making April's decision any the easier. There was no questions, no interjections…April was fully in charge, regardless if Casey acted as her full-time body guard most days and Mikey her over-protective younger brother. They weren't about to trample any ideas that April might have to get them out of this.

Did she have time to warn them that things could be riskier with her so called help? Would that be worse or better to even warn them in the first place?

April glanced over her shoulder. The buzzing in the back of her mind telling her that she really didn't have the time to think about this. If they were going to move, they needed to do so now. She would worry about things as they came.

* * *

The room was spinning around him, as Raphael placed his hands on either side of his head. He howled loudly as something snapped inside of him, something swelled to the point of bursting. It had built in his chest, had been building since he had first seen what had happened to his family. The blood, the mess...Master Splinter the only one truly left standing…When the howl sprang forth it was followed by a most unrecognizable crack in his voice, making it more hollow and dull, than rampant and angry.

He hated himself for it instantly.

"You can't expect me to fix this!" shouted Raphael at the clear air, unaware of anything else but the fact that he was too late to save his father. Those suits, goons, jerks...they cleared out and took someone extremely precious with them, something that they needed desperately now. How would they survive without their father? What would happen to Master Splinter?

Pulling himself together momentarily, Raph stormed around in circles before kicking the collapsed gaming system. A small ping flew from the machine, encouraging Raph to kick it once more. He didn't want the memories of gathering around his brothers while they played right in this spot to filter through, even through the shattered glass and the metallic pinball lay in the center of the wreckage. He could almost see Mikey grinning up and saying something akin to 'Ya snooze, ya lose!' or Leo rattling his shoulder to make him lose a shot and smirking about it all the while. Then Master Splinter would call to them from the kitchen...

Sending the pinball machine one last swift kick to it's turned over side, Raph stomped away from it, continuing to glance at every tattered memory, every torn thing that once use to represent peace and security.

A single discarded cain stopped Raph from pacing and suddenly, there was nothing left in him. Exhaustion consumed him, blanking his emotions and leaving his mind to do likewise. One single discarded cain almost touching the wall. The last remaining symbol of peace and security was right at Raphael's feet.

Heaving a sigh, Raph made his way over to a chair that had been toppled over. He righted it, setting it back into place, picking up the cain that had been cast aside and balancing it on the chair in front of him. His eyes roved over the polished wood as he stepped away from the chair. His eyes remained stationary.

His own memento.

Raphael knelt his eyes still glued to the cain, as if in a trance, as if it could somehow reverse the effects of the night.

Magically, the lair would be lit up with the boisterous noises of his brothers. His father would be lecturing them...

The TV would have been on. Mikey was always so fond of sitting in front of that thing when it wasn't a Space Hero marathon, then it would be Leo plastered to the screen. Raph would have been tossing popcorn at either one of them, teasing them for their obsession of TV shows while all the while secretly enjoying the program himself...

Donny might have been out there too. His hands were always filled, but that didn't stop him from joining when he could.

Casey would have showed up.

Master Splinter would be training April with Casey standing off in the far corner. Raph would have laughed watching as Casey tried to overcome his fear of rats, taunting him while April giggled next to Master Splinter.

His family would be there...if he could fix this.

It was a stupid error. Bad timing. Had he known that there were people looking for them he would have been a little more skeptical about the decisions he made. He didn't understand why he needed freedom more than his brothers. He just wanted outside with fresh air filling his lungs. The energy had been too overwhelming, consuming. Had he known, had he been more in control of his desires...He would be with all of them, right now.

Raph didn't know how long he sat there, staring, doing nothing. But he couldn't seem to make himself move from his spot. He couldn't find it in himself to care if someone barged in, couldn't find it in himself to care if Bishop came back to collect him. Actually, he would prefer it if they did return. It might resurrect some aguish from the pit of his stomach. Right now Raph just felt numb, completely disconnected from the world around him.

Raph didn't know when he had finally picked himself up and moved over towards Donny's lab. He didn't understand that his body seemed to be going full gear without his mind in charge. He was doing without thinking; separated body from mind. He watched himself rummaged the lab, finding every piece of weaponry available. This much his mind could compute. He might not be able to function as a whole person, his logic trapped inside his own head, but at least he was moving, doing something productive. He was useless trying to consider what he seemed instinctively to be doing. He couldn't fathom what his own plans were. Certainly, he was on a mission. If his mind could catch up with the rest of him, then he could think a bit more practically about his next steps, but that didn't seem to be happening. Everything was slow motion internally, and rapid pace externally. It was like watching a film fast forwards and trying to keep up with the details.

By the end, Raphael found himself gunned up and ready to move. Rope, throwing stars, both his sai, a small dagger laced through his belt and another on the opposite side, a small tool kit in which he pulled various items from and stuck into a left over shoulder strap that belonged to Leo when they were younger, grappling hooks, and brass knuckle busters and Raph's disconnected body must have rationalized that he was quipped with just enough gear to do damage.

Raph's mind was able to stop himself, finally mind and body becoming one for the briefest time as he stared down at the discarded katanas. Without hesitation, his hands knew what to do, what he wanted to do. They grabbed the handles, lifting them upwards and sheathing them into the holder on his back.

Then his body drew away from him again, hands finding his sai and tugging them loose from his belt.

Twirling the weapons, Raph, almost as if he were observing from afar, walked out of the lair. His feet knew where they were going even though he himself did not. Though, he recognized the direction he was taking. It was the way that he had left his brothers. He was going to catch up with them and no one was going to stand in his way.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to give a thank you for all of those that favorited/followed and for the reviews. It's so sweet of you guys to take your time out and make me smile. It's great to see that people enjoy my stories, truly.

So, here's what Leo and Donny are up to...this chapter became very involved, very quickly, way more so than previous chapters and I don't want to change the pacing either and slow the story down like my original attempt. It would just make things slower for other chapters and I couldn't allow that. Therefore, take heed of the long chapter with a lot, and I mean, a lot of action, character appearances, and ultimately, drama everywhere. (Oh and this has suddenly become AU. There's just no way to work around the last episode, or even the one prior...I did try though.)

A warning for this chapter; one character makes an indecent gesture to anger our villain and sets things in motion for the remainder of the story. I would tell you who, but I'm sure you guys will find out below. :)

**One Disaster too Many**

**Chapter 9**

Everything was in a blur, a dreadful, agonizing wave of slow motion. Every limb screeched to a lumbering halt, as if Don's body had suddenly collapsed in on itself. The sluggishness of his movements was unbearable in such a dire situation. Images flew in and out of view, mind working at the speed of light in comparison to the rest of him. Don couldn't attribute everything to the poison from the dart he had plucked from his arm. His mind was usually quicker than his actions, always spinning like a wound top, making him the slowest of his brothers to understand the more physical aspects of ninjutsu. But he could tell that he was considerably slower than normal right now and that was quite alarming after such an attack. At least, the dart had not collapsed him totally; unusual, true, but something Don was not even bothering to question at the moment.

With an arm clinging to his last source of stability, he couldn't force himself to look up at his older sibling for reassurance. Don wanted that unfounded belief that Leo had everything under control still, even if in the back of his mind, the dark thoughts prodded, nudging not so gently to the foreground. He didn't want to be reminded that Leo was nothing more than a young teen, running for his life, just the same as Don was. Don didn't want to be reminded that their true source of fearlessness and wisdom, the one Leo had been attempting to mirror most of his life, was yanked from them only so long ago.

His hands gripped onto Casey's jacket tighter. They needed to keep up with each other if they were being followed.

Don just couldn't give in to his realizations or he might begin to internally collapse from the sense of dizziness that their situation brought. So instead, his hold remained the center of his thoughts, holding himself steadfast to more ways than just to Leo's side. Don's eyes swam with images of the sewers swaying from the left and then to the right, searching without true consideration as to where or why, until the arm tugged both turtles to the far left and down another tunnel.

Being the house mechanic and doctor of the family, Donatello wasn't prone to roaming the sewer tunnels, unless it was to the junk yard or dumpsters. Wandering about was more a trait that belonged to his siblings. So it was no surprise that Don was unfamiliar with the path that Leo had lead them through, a short cut of smaller tunnels that lead straight back the main series once again. Relief filled Don as his eyes scanned over now familiar landmarks, recognizing each of them. If anything, his trust and faith in his brother soared higher now that things were starting to take shape once more. At the very least, he wasn't lost. And if Don knew where they were, surely Leo knew where he was going.

"I think we lost them," stated Leo, breathing a bit ragged from their sprint around the sewers.

Don dared not say anything, but nodded nonetheless. He still was unwilling to neither glance back nor was anywhere else, but forwards. The uncertainty in Leo's tone kept him from doing so.

They continued on, pace slowing slightly with Leo constantly glancing over his shoulder.

Out of the corner of Don's eyes, he noticed Leo's head spinning back for the umpteenth time before looking straight ahead once more. "We need to find somewhere to hide. Then I'll go back for everyone else."

It took a moment to truly digest what Leo had said. However, when it did, it hit Don's stomach hard.

"What?" Don snapped, finally risking the dread of turning backwards. His head spun, eyes bouncing off the walls as he tried to find where everyone had gone. He came to a complete stop, pulling his brother to one right beside him. His stomach sank to his feet as the space remained empty. "They didn't make it."

Leo stepped in his field of view. The uncertainty in his own face was barely masked by the need to console Don's nearing frenzy. "We'll fix this. We'll figure this out."

It was the 'we' part that Don was having trouble with. Nowhere in his thoughts could he drudge up something that might reverse the scenario. He had been completely useless outside of a nick or two to the arm.

Don's eyes darted to Leo's arm tucked in the jacket, the loose one barely usable. There wasn't even a 'Leo' in this grand idea of fighting their way back out of this mess. Swallowing, Don tried not to let the cascade of thoughts wash over him.

Master Splinter…April….Mikey, Casey…Raph.

"They're gone," Don repeated sorrowfully. "We'll never be able to get them before it's too late. We'll be caught if we try-"

"Donny-"

For whatever reason, hearing his name broke the dam of clogged emotions. "They're going to come after us next, Leo! We're not dealing with the average foot ninja or some random human. This approach is too serious for that. The odds of us being able to recover the time and momentum for any sort of rescue are next to nil. We don't have anywhere to go-"

"Yes, we do," Leo tried rationalizing, noticing the panic zipping in a flurry of thoughts racing inside his younger brother's head and trying to stomp out all the doubt immediately. His one arm had already grabbed hold of Don's elbow, unable to go higher.

The contact slowed Don down a bit, but there was still the edge of hysteria to his voice as he asked, "Where?"

"Leatherhead's old lair. He had a lot of stuff he's collected, Kraang stuff and we can use that. We're going to get there and then we'll worry about finding everyone. It's not going to be too late."

Donatello was never the one to argue, but right now, he had to keep himself from saying anything at all. He knew that he wasn't looking at the situation unbiasedly. His mind needed to just focus on the cold hard reality of what they needed to do and not what they couldn't. Leo was trying to be practical about this. He was trying to offer a solution to their immediate problem; no weapons.

They just needed to work this one step at a time.

Willing himself to calm, Don tried to think about things as if they were a complex equation. All jumbled in symbols and signs, could be worked out with a cool, rational mind that solved things one baby step after another until the solution was found. Everything mattered, but the most crucial of factors were important to deal with first.

The two wandered along the sewers, Don taking the time to truly collect himself. He didn't know what was happening and he knew that neither did Leo. But the one thing he knew was that they were both together at the very least. He needed to have a balance and a voice versus his own thoughts.

"…I didn't mean to overreact," started Don. He peered over at his brother for only a second.

There was silence following that statement. It was as if Leo was mulling everything over and weighing them out in his head.

"It's not your fault." The statement was almost a near whisper as the two pressed on. There was a hint of guilt underlying Leo's tone as if he were blaming himself for things going so awry.

No doubts passed through Donatello's mind. He knew that his brother was internally beating himself up over the last twenty-four hours, most specifically about keeping his brothers together. Leo was the sort that there was really nothing Don could do about any misplaced guilt until his older brother started talking. Usually, a few minutes of hearing himself was the best medicine for Leo. It cleared his thoughts and helped him stay on track. However, when he didn't air out his feelings on the matter, then he was stuck in an endless loop of turmoil, leaving Donatello helpless to do anything but watch his older brother struggle internally. It wasn't as if Don could offer any solution, his own mind drilling him to what might have happened to the rest of their family. Focusing on the details of how to patch up his siblings was what helped Donatello detach from his own stress up until this point.

After a few more minutes of calming, Don felt compelled to say something to lessen the burden Leo had placed on his shoulders.

"It's not your fault either."

There was a slight audible exhale. But Leo didn't say a word in agreement or in disagreement. He just kept quiet and pressed on.

But being the typical pacifist, Don steadfastly remained quiet and followed close behind. He worked out a dialogue in his head to do what Leo was not. It was therapeutic to pretend Leo and he were discussing their plans, going through lists of what they needed. They both wanted solutions after all.

"This is it," Leo stated after a long intermission, hopping down into the train tracks below. Donatello quickly did the same, as the two made their journey to the hallway filled with dead ends more than ones where they could easily escape. Donatello couldn't ignore the fact that Leatherhead had a series of weapons, even Kraang weapons at his disposal. They could use something such as that if they were going to ward of Bishop's men.

They had finally come to the series of underground, old train cars that served as Leatherhead's old lair, one of which was missing due to their past escapades here. Leatherhead hadn't much missed it, using the other cars at the far end as a base, clumped together tightly. Don hadn't spent much time with the alligator, mostly when they were in the tunnels handing supplies and then booking it before Leatherhead grabbed his face once again. He had mentioned to Mikey about reconstruction of his lair, hence why all the tools were needed. It explained series of cars that were burned through and welded to create a roomy interior.

Leo observed the outside glancing over it before sending the 'ok' to Don to move inwards. Leo's eyes scanned the surrounding room, taking the first steps inside before his younger brother, shielding him from any potential danger. He couldn't understand it after so much practice with Master Splinter, but his senses were completely off. Overwhelmed might be the correct term. He had felt so sure of himself capable of handling things without his sensei to guide him. He thought he was just beginning to truly master his emotions and then this lone agent stomped out all his progress. Leo couldn't help second guess everything he did at the moment.

His eyes searched the car, finding nothing of any real value before making his way to the next with Donatello in tow.

The two rummaged through the second, connected subway car, which was a tad more promising than the last.

"Donny," called Leo as he noticed something off to the side. A large, crafted mace could be found near some half melted candles. "I think I've found us a weapon."

Donny hurried over to where Leo was standing. Spitting on both hands and rubbing them together, Don grabbed the handle and started to pick up the sizable weapon. Don might be use to throwing around a heavy six-foot bo staff, but it didn't have anything on the kind of weight that this weapon contained. His feet instantly widened as his face scrunched up, completely concentrated on lifting the mace.

Struggling, Don didn't want to disappoint Leo with not being able to handle the weapon. He sort of wished that he'd paid Raph's weight-lifting set a little more attention than he had in the past. Though, if Don recalled correctly, Raph was just as territorial about his weight set as Don was aout his lab space. It probably wouldn't have been beneficial if Don had imposed.

Thankfully, Leo seemed to notice that Don was not as capable with the weapon at hand and replied, "Don, don't strain yourself. We'll get another weapon. There's bound to be more around here. I can't imagine Leatherhead not having a Kraang laser gun or something somewhere in here and we can both use that."

Don smiled before releasing the handle. "Thanks," he muttered, feeling the energy coursing back through him. He didn't want to exert himself through just picking up a weapon, even if he was trying not to disappoint. That would render them both useless in a battle with Bishop and his men if it ever came down to it. Don wasn't all that sure they had any odds on their side with just himself and Leo remaining.

Neither heard anything, too focused on finding something to use, when the door to the connecting car slammed open.

Both turtles flew up in the air, eyes trying to make out a large silhouette in dull glow of the outside light. They were not followed up until that point. The thought of Bishop's men close behind threaded a panic in them both instantly. However, the shadow was far too bulky to be one of the humans, far too tall. A second glance and Leo could swear that Leatherhead had somehow escaped back into their dimension. He took a single step forwards, eyes still squinting.

Leo felt his stomach plummet when he finally made out who had slammed the door open. It wasn't Leatherhead standing at the door. His mind reflected on the massive escape of mutants that he and his brothers had released from the Kraang's hold. A part of him at the time had been slightly concerned by any future encounters. Right now, he realized how right he had been.

Donny must have figured out who it was too, because the next moment he was next to Leo, not knowing whether to duck for cover or stand in front of his injured older sibling.

The three mutants stood staring back and forth across the car, never losing a beat on the other's movements. Nothing was spoken, leaving a lull of silence between them, gathering seconds...minutes... It was apparent that the much taller, bulky mutant was not going to be the first to speak, nor was he going to move. Leo and Don really didn't have time for a long drawn out interaction. They were suppose to be here to get weapons and find their siblings and friends. Leo couldn't delay their plans any further. Even if he risked being pulverized, they needed to do something soon or who knows what might happen.

"What are you doing here, Spike?"

The larger turtle's fury was released in one swooping yell, snarling at the two turtles that found themselves more or less trapped. The two dodged the sound, pushing backwards a ways in order to keep away in case the heftier turtle decided to barge at them like a bowling ball.

"It's Slash," the snapping turtle shouted, his voice bouncing back at the two figures from all around the makeshift room. "And the question is, what are you doing here?"

Leo and Donny glanced at each other. Neither were quite sure how to approach this new violent behavioral series. "This is Leatherhead's old home-"

"This is my home!"

Leo shut up after being interrupted, not quite knowing what to say. Slash was ten times more volatile than Raph was, could easily inflict damage to them without batting an eye, and held a grudge for whatever reason against Raph's siblings. The combination wasn't exactly a pleasant one for the outcome of events that might occur. The last thing they needed was for Slash to stomp out their last glimmer of hope.

"We didn't know-" Don started, still half guarding his older brother, still leaning as far away as he possibly could.

"Of course, you didn't!" Slash exclaimed once again cutting off any sort of explanation. His fist flew up in the air before landing back down. A might slam resulted from the the fist against the metal, creating a crater in the steel of the train. It made both smaller turtles' eyes flash towards the indention. Neither one could think of a thing to say, letting the awkward silence fill the room.

After a period of time that seemed to have evolved into eternity, Leo peered back upwards, noticing that Slash was staring at them, eying up their wounds for his own purposes. They weren't a match for him even with their bodies functioning topnotch. Now that Bishop had gotten to them first, it would be as easy for Slash to knock them senseless as beating up a feather. Never before had Leo felt so useless as he did at that moment. Even when he had been threatened by the Shredder, his mind was too wrapped up in the battle to actually associate feelings with the circumstances until much later. By the time reality slipped in, Leo and his brothers had been safe and sound down in the sewers with their father.

Here and now, Slash was giving him plenty of opportunity to reflect on their position and just who held the control. No one was making a move one way or another. It was up to Leo to think of a solution and fast. "Listen, Slash..."

Slash's eyes narrowed in directly on him. It didn't aid Leo in feeling any better about his situation or his lack of use at the moment. Since he couldn't exactly raise his arms in a mock surrender, Leo attempted to put as much patience and softness in his voice that he could muster up. If they could work things out with Slash, then they'd just keep going until they found another location with weapons. It was as simple as that. Though, all future scenarios were out of Leo's hands if Slash didn't release them. Leo couldn't allow that to happen. "We didn't mean to invade your home...we were just looking for some weapons because our family is in serious trouble. We won't bother you again. You have my word."

Certainly, Leo internally rationalized, that must have induced some sort of sympathy. Grabbing Don's wrist, Leo took a sidestep to go around Slash's form. They could make it out of here yet.

Taking his giant hand, Slash yanked the door from its resting place and swung it closed. With a loud bang, the car shook, reverberating from the sound waves and impact of the slam. "Where do you think you're going?"

Leo and Don glanced up fearfully. Don was taking a step back, knowing how much havoc Slash had caused him by lashing out and slamming him into the cement on the rooftop. Unlike the last time, where Slash was keeping an eye on Raph, he didn't have to follow an agenda. There was no time limit for how long he had when attacking Raph's siblings. That's what troubled Don the most.

Silence fell upon the room before Slash moved his other hand, throwing it out in the gap between them.

Now it wasn't just Don backing wearily away. Leo nudged Don back with his shoulder, eying the hand as it it in itself were the enemy. It might as well have been.

"I'll let you go," Slash began. He purposely hesitated before raising his hand slowly and forming a fist with all but one finger aimed directly at their faces. "Only if I can keep your masks."

Leo glanced back at Don as if to question what Slash might do with the colored cloths. Don only shrugged. As far as Don knew, it was some kind of trophy to the mutant snapping turtle. Slash had adorned his arms with them last time, more concerned to be able to wear them than he was with truly ridding Raph permanently of his brothers. This wasn't so much about taking down the enemy as much as putting the turtles in their respective places. The hierarchy that Slash had developed for them all.

Without grumbling over such trivial matters, Leo nodded before attempting to reach up high enough to pull his own mask over his head. Don quickly followed suite, cringing at how Leo must be twisting his torn muscles more with every tug. Surely, the other was in pain.

Don reached over to help, but was nudged away as Leo managed to get his elbow high enough to begin tugging at the fabric around his eyes.

Slash only laughed mean-spiritedly as he stood there and watched. It sort of figured that he was a glutton for any sort of pain and agony that could be found in Raph's siblings. Don didn't find it amusing and wished that Leo would be a little less stubborn about doing this by himself.

"Leo…"

"I've got it!" whispered Leo harshly. Leo didn't really allow himself to be weak in front of his brothers too often. Those times he did, he hadn't really spoken much to them afterwards and moped a little more than usual. Don could understand this. He always felt similar to when an experiment of his went poorly and affected his family. He didn't feel in the mood to go searching for his brothers for help. He had even justified it in his mind that his brothers couldn't help him with anything anyways. They weren't smart enough to handle the information and know what to do with it. However, Don had been proven wrong time and time again about the intellectual achievements of all three of his siblings. Certainly, none were able to understand Don's 'mumbo jumbo' as Raph so delicately called it, but they were slowly aiding in shouldering some of Don's burdens the more Don allowed them to be apart of his mechanical or experimental processes.

His older brother's behavior still made sense to Don, even if the resident genius was learning to share. Leo had just been placed leader and therefore, felt the need, as Don once upon a time did, to hoard control over his domain. It had taken years for Don to allow Raph to borrow his tools, or Mikey to pick things up for him, or even Leo to utilize something from the lab. Don wasn't expecting Leo to just be fine with anything other than a perfect reflection of everything Master Splinter expected in a leader right off the bat.

Don watched as Leo struggled once more. Then the elder dropped his hand, exhaling heavily. "….Don."

But, Slash had already stormed over to them, eager to have his prizes in hand.

Don's masked was pried from his fingers in one large swoop. Slash's black beady eyes zipped to Leo as soon as the purple fabric was in his grasp. He grabbed the sleeve of Casey's jacket before Don or Leo could propel themselves backwards. Slash reached down, fingernails sliding under the blue mask before ripping it free from Leo's face. He made sure not to break the fabric with his jagged nails, but was not so kind to the red scratch that formed near Leo's eyes, where he had yanked off the mask.

He stood hovering over the two turtles, eyes searching them before his face scrunched into a snarl. "Get out."

Leo and Don found themselves moving slowly around the stalky figure before making their way to the entrance. They pulled the door open with a mighty swing, before Slash could change his mind, and immediately went into a full sprint through the sewers once more.

* * *

The New York Field Office was the last place Bishop wanted to go. He did not want to deal with the United States government when he contained precious resources in the back of his van. Unfortunately, some of the men that he had worked with belonged to system and as such were always skeptical of who they had been employed under. It was easier that Bishop allowed them to enter the building with the mutant rat under wraps from the other departments.

He had already convinced them that this mission was of the utmost importance to remain secretive. He warned them of the sort of chaos they would produce trying to prove themselves before they had any real theory to go off of. They would need professional doctors even veterinarians in their labs in order to show the paper evidence. Nothing was permanent until it was penned in ink.

Bishop planned to be long gone before the first of the men slipped up and lead everyone to the lab room where they had brought in the mutant rat. As soon as the rat was secured, Bishop ordered his own men to remove evidence and take custody of Hamato Yoshi after forcing everyone from the room. It helped that his men donned white, long-sleeved coats and tablets of statistics, numbers, and a hodgepodge of sloppy writing. It made their announcement to clear the room, all the easier for Bishop to declare needed space and time for the doctoral staff.

He had already strolled over to his own office by the time his men alerted him that Hamato Yoshi was now out of the building and moving to his own personal unit. With his actual base out in New Mexico, an abandoned warehouse with a secret underground department would do just as well. Bishop would stay as long as he needed to.

It wasn't for another half hour did his men get back in touch with him, his eyes roving over the papers that the higher ups had left for him to supposedly fill out. It required a lot of time scanning for tricky language and Bishop did not trust someone not to slip in something that might incriminate him later. He was far too old, despite his appearance, to be naive about these sorts of on-goings. His branch had been threatened since the very first time he'd walk through the doors of the office down in DC and again in New York. People here had disliked his ideals, considering them crazy, until the first Kraang invasion. Now they just wanted him gone, as if he were the one to bring this kind of bad luck to New York City.

"Sir we thought you'd find this interesting," came a voice on the other side of the earpiece.

Bishop caught it instantly, snapping brief case open and pulling out his laptop. He opened it up, clicking on the small icon at the bottom of his screen.

The feed from his nannobots came up. His men sent him feed from the past five minutes. Bishop watched carefully as another mutant turtle, much more grand in stature and twice the size of the others, came into view. His lair was quite a familiar sight. Bishop identified it right away as belonging to the mutant alligator he had chased after.

This must have been a new resident.

"Who is this?"

"We don't know, but he's obviously not friendly with the turtles."

Bishop smirked as he watched the feed play on. "Keep an eye on this new turtle. I might have use for him as well."

"Yes, sir."

"And keep the nannobots closer. I want them on the turtles, just in case. Keep them away from any sensitive skin so they don't feel anything. On the backs of their shell will be fine for now. I don't want them visible. The dark should conceal them for a while longer."

The man over the speaker replied with a "yes, sir."

The nannobots moved, hopping onto Bishop's prey without any hiccups. Neither of the turtles were any the wiser as they pressed on through the darkened tunnels. Neither were aware that they had struck gold, bringing in more background for Bishop to fill in the gaps. Neither were aware, as they pressed on searching for a new source of hope, of how bleak their situation actually was.

* * *

Leo and Donny had nearly run out of steam from their last full out sprint to make sure that they were as far away from Slash as they could get. They were only glad that it had been their masks that became the toll to freedom and not two broken, bloodied bodies in their place.

"At least, he didn't try to sling us around the sewers," Don replied, not sure if he was relieved right now, or just tired. It was probably a mixture of both. It wasn't helping that they had run out of places to go. All the ones that might have been considered 'good' hiding spots belonged to the Kraang. The Kraang had invaded the sewers even further underground than what Master Splinter had willed the four to go. They hadn't thought of moving to a more secure region when they had been older. Unfortunately, the lair had become home and home was still home, had always been home, and was once believed to always be home. There was no need to venture too far and Master Splinter had been with them on almost every occasion until this year.

By the time they were slowing, Leo was already showing signs of irritation. He was venting before he could stop himself and send Donatello into another spree of worry. "We're out of places. We don't know who is where. Those mutants that got free are down here and probably taking up their old spots."

Leo was right, of course. Most individuals, especially after a traumatic experience, found themselves searching for signs of familiarity. Wasn't that what they were doing too?

"We've can't do anything from down here if that agent guy-"

"Bishop," supplied Don, his need to correct still intact.

"…Bishop, is roaming the sewers. We'll have to find safety above ground or invade an old Kraang base that isn't functioning anymore."

Don bit his tongue. He knew the risks of going above ground. He could calculate the probability that they would be discovered by the foot or otherwise. The risk was high. Too many variables were involved. Indefinitely, they would run into someone if they weren't careful, and cautious about their descent. With Leo's arms still wrapped up, that was not going to be as easy of a task as it might have been. Anyone waiting above ground was going at least hear them struggling up ladders.

Alas, going to a Kraang base connected to the sewers was equally just as risky. They could very well have the Kraang chasing after them if they pushed on through the sewer tunnels, making their pursuit twice as stress inducing. And it didn't seem like Bishop was all too persistent to break into Kraang bases quite yet what with him preoccupied with finding them. Besides, Leo couldn't fight. They'd barely made it out of Leatherhead's old lair. They wouldn't much be a match for the multitudes of Kraang bots. It was a sure disaster down that way as well.

But what choices did they have left?

"We might try the Kraang base first," inserted Don, trying to think logistically about their odds. There might have been an argument rolling around the back of Don's head too about the small chance of Raph showing back up, but Don tried not to work himself up about that. He didn't want to get his hopes up only for them to be dashed. "There is a greater chance that a base went abandoned than there is trying to get you up a ladder before we're caught."

Leo sighed, almost relieved. His thoughts and secret hopes must have mirrored Don's own. "Alright, we check out a Kraang base, but if it even remotely looks occupied, we'll...we'll have to head up before the sun does."

The two made their way along the tunnels, Don staying slightly behind Leo, allowing his older brother to lead the way. Their hollowed footfalls were starting to grow heavier, Don was certain of it. They were tired and there was nothing they could do about it. Neither one had exactly "slept" last night. Raphael had kept Leo out on the couch with his shenanigans and Donatello was busy working into the wee morning hours. They would need to stop soon or they'd be stuck wandering the tunnels, out in the open until they were caught.

As they came up to a tunnel, Leo stopped his brother by throwing out an arm in front of him. "I think I hear something."

Don glanced around, suddenly worried that they were in trouble and so early. He didn't say a word in fear of giving off their positions. Brown eyes zigzagged back and forth over the darkened tunnels, trying to make out details in the blackness. Nothing.

"Are you sure?" Don squeaked out, unconsciously moving closer to his brother as they moved cautiously forward. Neither one spoke a word to each other after that.

They wrapped around corners, inching themselves into crevices that looked wide enough to fit as they started to push out of the main sewer system and into the vast tunnels that someone else besides the city, must have made. The labyrinth of passageways was large enough to cover all their underground bases directly to the central tower, T.C.R.I. These locations might be good for a day's rest, but this was too close for comfort to any of the active bases.

Slowly, they weaved through the tunnels, picking random ones as they went. Don now beginning to pick up some noises ahead. The familiar ringing of machinery now a faint melody that carried on out. Just for curiosity, they pressed on further to see exactly what they were dealing with in the tunnels they dared to tread.

Leo heaved a sigh as they neared the entrance. The Kraang seemed to be working diligently inside the base they stumbled upon. Foot soldiers, all wearing strange gadgets, including new eye pieces, lining the opposite entrance to the base and up to the Kraang headquarters. On table after table, were machines with wires being soldered into place and chips being inserted along the back of the hard metal.

"We'll just head back the other way and see if there is anyone in one of the other bases," Leo stated, a bit unsure of himself. Donatello wasn't about to hold his breath on anything.

"I knew that it couldn't be all those little techno-bugs making those sounds," replied a voice from behind them. The voice was far too high pitched to be male, and far too cocky to be some underling belonging to the foot clan. There was no way their luck could be this bad and yet, the universe seemed to want to prove them wrong.

"Karai," snapped Leo, a bit conflicted and reflecting the same sort of surprise that Donatello himself felt. "Why are you even down here…?"

Karai pulled off the new goggles and threw them down. She didn't waste any time to pull out her tanto from it's case. Instead of answering, the girl stepped forward. Her weapon came dangerously close as her eyes narrowed on Leo.

Don watched as the girl refused to acknowledge the horror of how she had swung back her weapon, ready to swipe at Leo's throat. His feet were in motion long before he realized what was happening. But by the time he had collected himself from the whirl of confusion, Don hand manage to be sent to the ground, off on the opposite side of his brother and the deadly konoichi. He gasped as Leo struggled to get the jacket off, and was pushed backwards onto the ground.

Karai rose the tanto up in the air once again ready.

Don closed his eyes, unable to watch his brother's life being taken away. Here they had dodged life and death situations almost three times now, only to have their journey end with none other than Hamato Yoshi's daughter slicing them to ribbons. How had it all come to this?

The short sword swung, blade slicing through air, creating enough of a current for a sharp zing sound directly above Leo's shoulder...

* * *

Standing there statuesque, Bishop watched as his men attempted to capture every image from the nannobots they had planted. He was pleased that he could watch the turtle's every move without detection. Already, his men had located another mutant with the aid of the blue and purple masked turtles.

He smiled as his plan to extort information indirectly was working so well. The turtles had saved him an ample amount of time, roaming the tunnels to just the places that he needed to see. Now they had located a new region that Bishop had been unaware of; another Kraang base underground.

The turtles had remained on course and had delved in farther than Bishop's team had ever gotten in the Kraang-made underground bases. With patience and a little waiting, Bishop would learn more about his old enemies, the Kraang, by using their mutated pets against them. The foot might be use to clearing out his spyware thanks to Stockman, but they were not when the spyware was on the backs of turtles.

Then the screen spun quickly, just as it was focusing in on what the Kraang were actually doing. It was so rapid that Bishop hoped the men had captured at least a decent image of what was taking place in the lab before the unsettling movement.

"What happened to the image?" Bishop questioned in his mike, live feed streaming through his laptop. He was already out of the building and heading North to his warehouse.

The screen went dark and fuzzy before one of the images blurred completely, spinning out of control. It was a sign that one of the brothers had dropped into a roll for whatever reason.

The other screen finally found it's focus long enough for a metal clad female to come into view, sharpened weapon waved overhead. She was dressed in enemy gear, much like the leader of the underground Foot Clan that ran the streets of New York City by night.

Bishop felt a pinch of concern for his specimens being sliced up in pieces, but the girl hesitated last second, not in remorse. Oh, no, definitely not in remorse.

With her right hand readied to swing, her left hand suddenly came into view, a cruel smirk trickling across her face as her eyes blazed directly into the camera, staring Bishop down the same way Stockman had not so long ago. There was one, solitary finger rose in the most inappropriate manner on screen, directly in front of Bishop's face. The complete disrespect of the gesture coupled with knowing someone had planted the nannobots on the turtles caused his frown to deepen.

Then she swung and the screen became fuzzy.

Bishop's eyebrows furrowed, until his forehead was a mesh of hard lines, making him appear as if he ate something sour. The girl had known.

"Sir, we lost our feeds on the Blue one. We can't find him anywhere!"

Then the other screen blanked out, in the same static that the first screen had only moments behind.

"Sir, we can't find any on the Purple one either."

"I know!" barked Bishop as he sat there watching the lines dance over the screens. He was attempting to wrap around the idea that the female foot soldier had managed to divert his plans. His mind replayed the image of the girl and her smile before she had blocked out the image completely, wasting his precious pieces of machinery. For whatever reason the foot had possessed, they had pulled Donatello and Leonardo offline until Bishop managed to pull them back into the fray again. His eyes blazed with hatred as he requested the feed be played back to him, stopping right on the image of the girl making a crude gesture right in front of Bishop's face. He glared at the girl, barely captured on the feed that he had. Out of all his plans, he hadn't anticipated the foot to aid the turtles. All evidence proved the idea absurd. Bishop glanced at the finger once again before snapping his attention onto the raven haired teen. Apparently, he hadn't accounted for everything after all.

Two of his pawns were completely off the grid.

"We have a new player, gentlemen," growled a very angry Bishop, directly into his earpiece. His eyes searched the screen, memorizing his newest enemy with a certain amount of disgust. She was going to pay for this.

"Close in on the others immediately. Do not give the O'Neil girl or the other two mutants, plus the new one, a chance to escape."

"...What about the turtles we lost?"

"I want them all captured now!" Bishop shouted, slamming the lid of his laptop down.


End file.
